


Shadows Ascendant

by Aedemiel



Series: The Shadows We Cast [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-08-15 20:17:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 73,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8071237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aedemiel/pseuds/Aedemiel
Summary: In a desperate attempt to reset everything that went wrong in their fight against Amara, Dean lets Tenebrae send him back in time to try and fix things. However, the trip is not exactly how Tenebrae described it...





	1. Chapter 1

Bobby watched Sam as he carefully began to shovel soil into the grave. Sam's movements were stiff and jerky, his head bowed so that Bobby couldn't see Sam's face, just his hair, wet with sweat and tears. He'd tried to help, had offered to dig and give Sam a break. But the boy wouldn't take anything. He swigged from his hipflask, frowning to himself.

"You sure you don't want to give him a traditional hunter's funeral, Sam?" he croaked, pain roughening his voice. "Salt, burning. The whole nine yards?" Sam shook his head slowly.

"No. He's gonna need a body when I get him back." Sam sounded old, his voice rusty and low.

"Sam…" Bobby started and the younger Winchester held up a hand, although he still didn't look up.

"Save it, Bobby. I know what you're going to say and I don't want to hear it." Tears dripped off the tip of his nose, the only thing visible through his curtain of hair. He went back to filling in the hole, his sobs racking his tall frame. Bobby wasn't much given to outwards displays of emotion, but it was all he could do not to weep right now.

They had worked so hard to save Dean, to keep him from this fate of his own making. God, the boy had been so like his hard-headed father it was scary. And Sam had fought so hard to find a way out. Bobby didn't think they'd ever truly believed they'd fail. That Dean would actually be dragged into the Pit.

He figured this had been partly his fault. He was more a father to these two boys than John had ever been and he'd seen the look in Dean's eyes when Sam died. He'd known perfectly well what Dean intended to do and dammit, he should have stopped him. But he was grieving too and he'd convinced himself that it would be OK, that they'd find a way around the deal. So he'd as effectively sacrificed Dean's life on the altar of Sam's as if he'd done it himself. Which made him no better than John after all.

Sam was almost done. He'd fashioned a grave marker in the shape of a rough cross and was now hammering it into the ground with the shovel. The harsh ringing sound resonated around the copse of tree that surrounded the site they'd chosen. Then silence. Sam dropped to his knees and stayed there. Bobby walked painfully over to him, his hip grinding uncomfortably. He reached out and clasped Sam's shoulder, feeling the pain shuddering through him.

"Sam," he said. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know, Bobby. For tonight, I guess I'll head back to the motel, get some sleep. I'll think about tomorrow, tomorrow."

"I don't know, Sam. Maybe you should come back with me." Bobby said dubiously.

"I can't," Sam confessed. "I'm barely able to hold my head up right now. I'll see you in a couple days."

"All right," Bobby relented. "But you better show up, boy, or there'll be Hell to pay!" Sam's head came up, a twisted smile on his face.

"I think we're there already," he said desolately.

Bobby followed Sam as far as the motel, and wondered again if he should stay with the boy tonight. But he had other hunters out there who were relying on him, who needed him at the end of the phone and in truth there wasn't much he could do. Sam had made it clear he wanted to be left alone and Bobby needed to respect his wishes. At least for now. So he clapped the boy on the shoulder, and then roared off into the night.

* * *

Sam looked forlornly at the mostly empty bottle of bourbon he'd only opened an hour ago. Pain throbbed behind his eyes and the room began to swim. Oh, he'd overdone it but he didn't care.

"Sam," a sad voice said softly. He looked up and started at the sight of the Trickster leaning against the door.

"What do you want," Sam slurred, grief turning to icy anger in his veins. "Come to gloat?" The Trickster shook his head slowly.

"No, Sam. I just wanted to see if you were OK."

Sam stood up suddenly and lurched over to the diminutive demigod.

"No, I'm not OK. I'm never gonna be OK again!" He shoved the Trickster backwards and wheeled away from him, staggering towards the bed. A gentle hand on his arm guided him towards the mattress and he slumped down on it, tears running freely once more.

"I'm sorry, Sam. I am. I tried to get you to see that you needed to prepare for this. You know, I only wanted to help," the Trickster said.

"Yeah. And you were right," Sam admitted, his chest heaving. "But it didn't help. Nothing helps. I can't…" The Trickster climbed onto the bed beside Sam and looked down at the boy, the palpable sense of his loss making a lump in his throat.

"You'll get through this, Sammy," the demigod told him, tugging him forward and pressing the younger Winchester's head against his chest. Sam gave a wordless cry and wrapped his arms around the Trickster's waist, sobbing freely against his stomach. They lay there silently, Sam weeping and clutching at the Trickster. He was the last person Sam should want to see right now and yet strangely, his presence was comforting. A hand carded through his hair and Sam felt himself drifting before falling into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

Sam blinked his eyes open slowly, and turned his head to his brother's bed. His breath caught in his throat when he saw it was empty. Memory crashed into him and he closed his eyes again, trying to force the pain down inside himself. He opened his eyes again and pulled himself upright, then slowly got out of bed. He stared at the empty bourbon bottle on the table and frowned. Grief was still a heavy shadow on his shoulders, but given how much he had drunk last night and how quickly, he should be throwing up and half-blind with a headache right now. But instead, he was clear-headed and remarkably well rested. Even the injuries he'd sustained in the last few desperate days had healed. It was bizarre. A fluttering feeling in his chest accompanied the next wave of memories, the warmth and comfort of being cradled in the Trickster's arms as he bawled out his grief. The soothing presence of the demigod as he'd slipped into sleep. Had the Trickster healed him, and burned the liquor out of his system last night? It wasn't anything the creature had done before but he was powerful and apparently he'd been feeling generous and sympathetic to Sam's pain last night. If there had been a trick involved, Sam couldn't see it. Nor could he see any advantage to the Trickster's behavior, other than perhaps making Sam feel a little less harshly towards him. But he'd been softening his stance on the demigod anyway. In the final days when Dean's fate had been hurtling towards them, he'd come to see that as misguided as the whole Mystery Spot-Groundhog Day thing had been, the Trickster hadn't done it out of cruelty or enjoyment of inflicting pain.

Sam sighed heavily and headed into the bathroom. He gazed at himself in the mirror, skin pale and his eyes hollow. Dean was gone. He splashed cold water on his face and then turned on the shower. He had work to do.

* * *

"I didn't even have to show up, you know," the demon said viciously. "My master said none of us have to answer _your_ call. Not after what you did to the last one who answered." She was an attractive Asian woman in her late forties by Sam's reckoning, and her eyes flashed red at him.

"So why did you?" Sam snapped. "Why come if you didn't have to and you don't want to make a deal?"

"I was curious," she admitted. "I wanted to know what you would offer up."

"And my soul isn't good enough for you, is that it?" Sam snarled.

"Pretty much," the demon said with a smile. "Look, I know my colleague told you we have exactly what we want. Dean Winchester burning in Hell. Why would you think we trade his soul for your considerably inferior one?" Sam flinched. "Azazel may have favored you, but many of us thought you were weak. And guess what? You are. Here you are bargaining for your brother's soul but you brought nothing to the table."

"So tell me what you want. Anything. I can get it," Sam said desperately.

"Like I say, we already got it. There's nothing you can offer. And anyway, even if there was something, the boss was clear. No deals for Sam Winchester. None. You are off-limits. _Persona non grata._ "

"Why?" Sam yelled in frustration. "Why do this?" The demon shrugged.

"Well, you _do_ keep killing my co-workers. That's why most of us won't even come talk to you. Me, I figure you're not planning to kill me, since that worked out so well for you last time." She looked thoughtful for a moment. "That's not the only reason though. I don't know the whole story, not for sure. What I do know is that the order comes from on high."

"How high?" Sam asked, a creeping sense of dread sending cold fingers across his spine.

"No idea. I'm quite low down the ladder, you know. Only on my fourth century."

"Way above your pay grade, you mean?" Sam said sarcastically.

The demon nodded. "Yes. We have a hierarchy, just like humans. Now, unless there's anything else?" Once upon a time, Sam might have had the dignity to dismiss her, or even try to kill her. But not now.

"Please," he begged. "Please, tell me, what can I do? What can I offer to make a deal."

"I told you, nothing," the demon said testily. She considered him for a moment. "Nobody will make a deal with you. I promise you that. But maybe there's another option."

"Anything," Sam said gratefully.

"The Devil's Gate," the demon said. "If you could re-open that, maybe you could go get your brother yourself."

Sam stared at her in horror. "Break into Hell and bust Dean out? You're insane!" She laughed at him.

"I didn't say it was smart. Or even possible. But it's the only way I can think of now. Unless you're willing to give up and accept that your brother's in Hell and there isn't a damn thing you can do about it. Wallow in your powerlessness and pain. We'll all enjoy that."

"No!" Sam barked. "No. There must be a way. There has to be." He pulled Ruby's knife from his pants and the demon backed away but she didn't look too scared.

"Well, that's my cue," she said sweetly. "Have a nice life, Sammy." With that parting shot, she smoked out of her host and the woman slumped to the ground.

* * *

The cemetery where the Devil's Gate was located was as dilapidated and spooky as it had been the last time Sam had been here. The day the Devil's Gate had been opened and they had finally gotten their revenge on the bastard who'd killed their mom, killed Jess and almost destroyed Sam's life. But they'd been too late to stop Jake opening the Gate anyway, and setting off this whole terrible series of events that had led to Dean literally in Hell and Sam in a metaphorical Hell of being without his brother. His phone buzzed at him and he saw there were more missed calls from Bobby. He sighed and dialed his voicemail.

_Sam? It's Bobby. Again. Look, kid, I haven't heard from you in weeks. I just need to know you're OK. I… I heard from Rod Baker that he saw you in Denver two weeks ago, but that you didn't even say hello. Sam, please. I'm worried about you. Call me._

Sam shoved his phone savagely back into his pocket. Bobby didn't understand. Nobody understood. He wasn't deliberately avoiding them. Well, OK. He was. But only because they all kept telling him to move on. That he couldn't bring Dean back and even if he could, maybe he shouldn't. But he had to. It was the only way he could keep going. If he gave up on bringing Dean back, he might as well just lie down and die here and now.

A sound like someone clearing their throat attracted his attention and he looked up to see the Trickster leaning against the Devil's Gate. His breath caught.

"Uh, hi. What are you doing here?"

The demigod grinned at him. "Hey Sammy. Just thought I'd pop in, say hello. See how you're doing." There was a tension to his stance that belied his casual tone.

"I'm… OK," Sam said cautiously. "I wasn't expecting to see you." The Trickster shrugged.

"I was in the area, noticed you were here," he said easily. He looked around critically. "This isn't the cheeriest spot for a reunion. Wanna get out of here, go get something to eat maybe?" Sam stared at him in utter astonishment.

"No, I'm good, thanks," he replied. "I… Why are you here, really?"

"Why Sam," the demigod said, sounding wounded. "It's almost as if you don't trust me."

"I don't," Sam said firmly. "So?"

"I'm worried about you, kiddo," the Trickster said. "You're standing on the edge of the abyss, and you know it and _you don't care!_ Dean's gone. I'm sorry about that. But there's nothing you can do. And entering Hell through this Gate, on a rescue mission? It's suicide. It's worse than suicide, because you won't be able to close the Gate behind you. Which means you'll unleash all kinds of horror on this earth while you're down there and that's assuming you could make it back and close the Gate again. I can't let you do it, Sam."

"You're going to try and stop me?" Sam yelled. "Who the Hell do you think you are?"

"Someone who _can_ stop you. I already have, Sam. Give it up." The Trickster walked over to Sam and laid a hand on his arm. He looked up into Sam's eyes and his amber gaze was so infinitely sad that just for a moment, Sam felt like here was someone who actually understood what he was going through.

"I do understand," the Trickster said softly. "I really do. And that's why I can't let you do this. Please think about it, Sam. Think about what you're doing and just walk away."

"I can't," Sam confessed, his knees wobbling. "I can't go on like this." He dropped down onto the ground, his head bent as grief forced his throat closed.

"No. You can't. You need to live, Sam. You need to find a reason to live that doesn't revolve around Dean." The Trickster knelt down in front of him and tilted his head up. He stroked his fingers along Sam's jawline and despite himself the young hunter shivered.

"Come on, Sam. I'm taking you out of here." Sam nodded dumbly and then his head whirled for a moment and they were in his motel room. He looked around in surprise.

"Don't worry, I brought the car too," the Trickster assured him. Sam sat down heavily on the bed. "Get some sleep, Sam. Things will get better, I promise. But you have to let yourself heal."

* * *

The next morning, Sam did not feel better. And he decided that, no matter what the damn Trickster wanted, he was going to have another go at that Devil's Gate. He packed up the car and drove back to the place where he'd parked last night. It was one Hell of a hike from here but he had no choice, the road was impassable to anything but the most rugged of all-terrain vehicles and the Impala, beautiful that she was, was not up to the task.

After a few hours, it became very clear that something was wrong. Sam pulled out the map of the area he'd meticulously annotated and then checked his compass. He could see where he was supposed to be, based on how long he'd been walking, but none of the landmarks he'd identified were in sight. He sighed. He must have taken a wrong turn somewhere, but for the life of him he couldn't figure out where. He turned around and started to retrace his steps, back to the large oak he'd noticed about a half-mile back.

When he hadn't reached the oak after twenty minutes of walking, he was certain something was seriously wrong. Even if he'd made a mistake earlier, he'd just turned around and gone back the way he had come. It was impossible for him to have missed the tree. Someone, or something was screwing with him. And he knew exactly who to blame.

"Damn you," Sam whispered. But there was nothing he could do. Hopefully, the tricksy son of a bitch wouldn't make it difficult to get back to his car.

There was a note on the driver's seat when he finally reached the Impala.

_Sam. I have to say I'm disappointed. Not surprised, but disappointed. I'm sorry I had to do this to you but you forced my hand. I can't allow you to destroy the world in your grief. I hope one day you will understand._

There was a symbol inscribed under the note, but Sam didn't recognize it. He didn't even know what kind of symbol it was, it looked like nothing he'd ever seen before. He tucked the note into his pocket and flopped into the driver's seat. After a moment of staring down at the steering wheel, he cranked the engine and drove away.

* * *

Someone was following him, Sam realized. He cursed under his breath, he was getting sloppy. Dean would have his head for letting anyone tag along behind him unnoticed for so long. He ducked into the nearest store which sold outdoor supplies, and knelt down by one of the racks, pretending to inspect bottles of insect repellent. It positioned him close to the window so he could see if his tail walked by. After a moment, he heard the door open and someone entered the store. He waited.

"Can I help you?" the store owner said.

"Sure," a voice replied, taut with strain. "I just saw my friend enter your store, he's really tall. Hard to miss. But I don't see him now." There was a pause. Sam wished he could see the two men.

"Are you sure he didn't leave again?" the owner asked. "I don't see anyone else here." Sam bit his lip. There was a security camera pointed directly at him, which meant the store owner was lying. He wondered why. "He could have gone out the side entrance," he continued.

"Ah. I didn't see that door," the voice said. "Thanks." Sam heard footsteps and then the creak of a door.

After a moment, the store owner spoke up, "The coast is clear." Sam stood up tentatively.

"Uh, thanks," he said gratefully. "You didn't have to cover for me."

An African American man in his late fifties grimaced at him. "Huh," he said. "The days I start ratting people out to demons is the day I eat my pistol. My name's Garrett Crobin, and you are Sam Winchester." Sam blinked. "Don't look so surprised, boy. You're about ten feet tall. You don't exactly blend in."

"You're a hunter," Sam surmised. Garrett shrugged and gave him a crooked smile.

"Was a hunter," he corrected. He limped around the counter and offered his hand to Sam. "I knew your Dad." Sam shook it and thought hard. The name wasn't familiar.

"I'm sorry, I don't remember hearing your name before," he admitted. Garrett gave him an easy smile.

"Not a surprise. We kinda had a falling out. You would have been a little kid at the time."

"Yeah. he did that a lot," Sam agreed. "What did he do?" Garrett jerked in surprise.

"Do? Nothing. We just had a disagreement. We were working this weird job in Hollis, near Portland. Maine, that is, not Oregon. There was this bridge over the Saco River, and for years dogs had been hurling themselves off it. Sad, but not really enough to attract the attention of a hunter."

"Dog suicide bridge? I've heard of those. There are a few of them around, here in the US and I think I even heard of one in England," Sam said. Garrett nodded.

"Yeah. Most theories are mundane, like colonies of minks creating smells the dogs go crazy over, ghosts, poltergeists. You name it. But nobody really knows what's going on. This bridge in Hollis was like that, until people started diving off it too. You can't exactly blame the smell of minks for that."

"So what was it?" Sam asked him. Garrett gave him a solemn look.

"No idea. We never figured it out. The final victim was a young mother, she jumped off with her two boys. And then after that, it stopped. After a week of no more jumpers, I wanted to leave. It was frustrating, but there were no more leads and whatever was causing the suicides had clearly moved on. Your Dad was livid. Accused me of abandoning those people to their fate. But what could we do? So I left, and we never spoke again. I heard from Bobby when he passed. I'm damn sorry about that, kid. Your Dad was a hardheaded son of a bitch, but he was a fine hunter and a good friend." Sam frowned as he tried to remember any entries in his Dad's journal about a suicide bridge but nothing clicked.

"So why are you being followed by demons, Sam?" Garrett said sharply. Sam shook his head.

"I'm not sure. I've… exorcised a few of them recently. Maybe they're just pissed at me."

"Bah!" Garrett said with feeling. "Demon's ain't sentimental. Even if you sent one of their buddies screaming back to Hell, they don't exactly cry into their beer over it. But they're also not real good at working together, trust issues don't you know?" He barked out a laugh. "But that demon was not working alone."

"How do you know that," Sam asked. Garrett shrugged.

"His reaction at losing you. If this was a personal vendetta, he'd have been pissed. But he wasn't angry, he was scared. Which means he's working for someone else. Someone more powerful." Sam felt a chill down his spine.

"Demons are plenty scary on their own. I don't want to know what scares them."

"Indeed," Garrett agreed. "I didn't know the black-eyed bastards were even capable of being scared. But he was terrified."

* * *

Back in his motel room, Sam thumbed through his father's journal. There was only one entry that could have referred to the case Garrett had mentioned. It described arriving in Hollis, ME and meeting with the local sheriff. But the next page was dated almost three months later, and the location listed as Tarrytown. NY. Had his Dad removed the pages or had he just not written the case up because he never found out what was causing the suicides? There was no way to tell. Bobby might know, but Sam wasn't sure he was ready to face Bobby just yet. He'd just have to take Garrett at his word, and hope that he was on the level.

His stomach growled at him and he sighed. He really ought to eat. He could order a pizza, but there was no liquor in the room, since he'd polished off the bourbon last night. There was a bar within walking distance. That would do. He slouched out of the room, letting the door close behind him.

The bar was quiet and the food options were limited but Sam didn't care. He ordered the fried chicken and asked the server to leave the bottle of whiskey. He swallowed three fingers of liquor in one go, enjoying the burn as it went down. _Easy there, boy,_ a voice in the back of his head said that sounded suspiciously like Bobby. He snarled to himself. Everyone just needed to fuck off and leave him alone.

When his food finally arrived, he'd made his way through half the bottle, and his appetite had died. He forced himself to pick at it and swallow down a few bites, but the chicken was tasteless and rubbery and he shoved the remainder away. The french fries were more edible, and he listlessly chewed a few of them while he pondered his next move. He was out of ideas. His phone buzzed and he looked at the caller ID but it was blocked. Bobby, most likely. He let it go to voicemail.

"Not talking to your friends tonight," the waitress asked. Sam flicked a glare at her. "That bad, huh? It's a pity, you're too pretty to be so sad." Sam looked away silently. "OK. Suit yourself. Can't blame a girl for trying." Sam ignored her and poured more whiskey into his glass.

When he finally stumbled out of the bar, he was really, really drunk. The cool night air hit him and his head began to swim. He reeled about for a moment, disoriented, before settling on the most likely direction to his motel and staggered off in that direction. If he'd been sober he might have noticed he was being followed again.

* * *

When he reached his door, he fumbled for his key and leaned heavily against the door as he searched through his pockets. Finally his hand closed around it and he pulled it out in triumph. It took several attempts to get it in the keyhole, but finally he managed to slide it home and turn it, pushing the door open. He had only a moment before he was attacked from behind. His assailants quickly pinned his arms behind his back and pulled Ruby's knife from his belt. Fuck. This was not good.

"Thanks for keeping this warm for me, Sam," one of them said, a woman by the sound of her voice. He frowned.

"Ruby," he said in a hard voice.

"It's nice to be back," Ruby said. The woman she was possessing was older than her last meatsuit, but the same arch tone and petulant expression meant Sam would recognize her anywhere. "Where I was, even for Hell, it was nasty." Ruby was saying. "I guess I really pissed Lilith off. Imagine my relief when she gave me one last chance to take it topside. And all I had to do was find you and kill you." So this was it then. He'd failed utterly. Himself, his brother, his father, Bobby. Everyone.

"Fine," he said in resignation. "Go ahead! Do it." He didn't care, not anymore. He was tired and heartsore and any remaining will to live was draining away. So he wasn't prepared for it when Ruby thrust the knife past him and into the other demon holding his arms.

"Grab your keys," Ruby told him. "We've got to go." Sam looked stupidly at her, unable to comprehend what was going on. "Now!"

* * *

In the Impala, Ruby was almost giddy. "You know what sounds good?" she asked rhetorically. "French fries. I'm starving. I just escaped Hell, I deserve a treat." She gave him a sidelong glance. "You know, a 'thank-you' would be nice."

"Who asked for your help?" Sam snarled. Ruby gave him a withering glance.

"You have no idea what I've been through," she complained. "When Lilith gets pissed, she gets creative. You want to hear about the corners of Hell I've seen, Sam?" Sam's lip curled in contempt.

"No. I don't," he told her.

"And the things I had to do to convince her I was sorry?" Ruby continued, ignoring him. "That I could be trusted?" Sam sighed in irritation.

"Well, this'll definitely get you a fat Christmas bonus," he said sarcastically. Ruby glared at him.

"Very funny," she said acidly. "For you, Sam. I took all this risk to get back to you, so yeah, I deserve a damn 'thank-you'" Sam rolled his shoulders.

"Again, who asked you to save me?" he pointed out.

"I'm just trying to help," Ruby explained. Why was everyone interfering in his life? Bobby, Ruby, even the damn Trickster. He turned to her with one raised eyebrow.

"Can you help me save Dean?" he asked bluntly.

"No," she admitted. "Nothing I know of is powerful enough to do that." Sam suddenly swung the car off the road and brought it abruptly to a stop.

"Then I have no use for you," he said baldly. Ruby gaped at him.

"What?"

"Get out," he told her.

"Sam," she began but he cut her off.

"Whose body are you riding, Ruby?" he asked. She frowned in confusion.

"What do you care? You've never asked me that before." She looked down at herself and then met his eyes again.

"I'm asking now," Sam said firmly. She gave a lazy shrug.

"Some secretary," she said, unconcerned.

"Let her go," Sam told her. Her mouth dropped open.

"Sam-" He made an impatient gesture.

"Or I send you right back to Hell." She climbed out of the car, casting him a disappointed glance. He ignored her and rammed the car into drive as soon as the door closed, roaring away into the night.


	2. Chapter 2

"I thought you were going to check out those demon signs," Sam said absently when he heard the floorboards creak. When Ruby didn't answer he looked up and started when he saw the diminutive figure of the Trickster, leaning against the rickety door jamb. "Oh. It's you."

"Hi, Sam," the Trickster said, his tone unusually serious. His amber eyes seemed to glow.

"I owe you an apology," Sam said. "I didn't think I'd see you again but…yeah. You were right. There's nothing I can do to get Dean back. It hurts. It hurts so bad, I won't ever be the same again. But I have to accept that it's out of my hands."

The demigod looked bewildered. "You're apologizing? To me?" he said breathlessly. Sam tried to shrug casually, he wasn't sure it quite came off.

"Sure. Why not? You were right, I was wrong. And you stopped me doing something terrible. So, yeah. I'm grateful. And sorry." The Trickster didn't seem to know what to do with that.

"Well, I uh… That's not why I came."

"OK. Why are you here?" Sam asked patiently. He was more glad to see the Trickster than he expected. It was strange, but he felt almost peaceful in the demigod's presence.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" the Trickster asked.

"You mean with Ruby?" Sam said flatly.

"Yes," the demigod replied. "I don't know what she's told you, but I don't trust her."

"Who says I trust her?" Sam said easily. "But she saved my life, she's helped me get back on my feet and I feel like I have a purpose again."

"Yeah? And when you're fucking her, you don't think that's trusting her?" the Trickster said savagely.

Sam blinked at him in astonishment. The diminutive demigod seemed suddenly angry, almost offended. What was going on here? "OK, I think discussion of my sex life is a little beyond where our relationship is at right now," he said coolly. "So if that's all you came here to talk about, we're done."

"I'm only looking out for you," the Trickster said. He almost sounded as if he were pleading with Sam.

"Why? Why the Hell do you even care? I mean, the business with the Devil's Gate, I get why you interfered there. But what has who I'm sleeping with got to do with you?"

"That's not the point," the demigod said in exasperation. "The point is, you spend all your time with this demon, she's encouraging you to use psychic powers that have a very dubious origin and she's helping you fight against other demons. And none of this seems suspicious to you? What's her endgame? What's her motive? Why is she helping you?"

"She wants to bring down Lilith. I'm a means to that end. I know that. I went in with my eyes open. The sex is just that, sex. A way to blow off a little steam. There's no love here, and nor will there be." Sam folded his arms across his chest. "I know what I'm doing. I want Lilith, and Ruby's help is the only way I can get her."

"I don't know, Sam. I really don't. Don't get me wrong, Lilith is bad news. But it all just seems too convenient to me." Sam's face settled into a mulish pout and the Trickster threw up his arms. "OK, fine. I'm outta here. I tried, Sam. Remember that." And with a click of his fingers he was gone. The motel room door opened and Ruby swept into the room.

"OK, Sam. We're on," she announced. Sam pushed the unease the Trickster's words had kindled to the back of his mind and stood up.

"Let's go," he agreed.

* * *

Sam flopped down on the bed, utterly exhausted. The first few tries at pulling a demon directly out of a possessed human had not gone at all well but Ruby had been encouraging and sympathetic. But this was the fourth attempt and he was still zero for four. Ruby hadn't said anything critical, but he knew she was disappointed. He heard the motel room door close and sighed audibly.

"She's here," Ruby said without preamble, wondering if this was a good idea. But Lilith had been adamant. She didn't want Sam to start losing interest. _There was little chance of that,_ Ruby thought, _but Lilith was the boss._ Sam sat up suddenly.

"What? Lilith?" he demanded. She nodded slowly.

"Yeah. You were right. All the omens you've been tracking, it's her. I know where she is."

"What are we waiting for then?" Sam said, standing up. "Let's go." Ruby shook her head. She had to play this very carefully.

"You're not ready yet," she said firmly.

"It's now or never," Sam sneered at her but Ruby kept shaking her head. _Lilith was wrong, there was no chance of Sam giving up._

"No," she insisted. "We've got to wait until you get it right." She kept her face solemn. "You haven't been too successful." He flinched and she concealed a smile.

"All right, I'll use this," Sam growled suddenly, brandishing her knife at her. _Oh great, just what she needed, him to go off half-cocked and knowing the Winchester's, fuck up everything she and Lilith had been planning for centuries!_ She grabbed his arm and stared directly into his eyes.

"Stop!" she cried. "You can't just fly in there reckless, Sam. We need you to take the bitch out!" Sam frowned at her. She cursed, that had been an unfortunate slip. "Me and you, Sam. We can't afford for you to fail."

"Oh, I'll take her out all right," he told her.

She eyed him uncertainly. "We get one shot, and you're it," she said urgently. "You're the only one who can do it, Sam. So if she kills you first…" Ruby broke off and widened her eyes and Sam noticed her apparent realization. _Boy, she should get an Oscar for this._

"What?" Sam asked roughly.

"You don't want to survive this," she said, her tone carefully balanced between appalled and shocked.

"Come on," Sam said dismissively.

"It's a kamikaze attack," she continued. "You _want_ to die, fighting Lilith."

"That's stupid," Sam said but he couldn't look her in the eyes.

"No," she said. "It's the truth, because if you kill her and you survive this, then you have to go on without your brother!" She raked one hand through her hair. OK, this was the below the belt shot. "This isn't what Dean would've wanted. This isn't what he died for." Sam shoved her, hard and she fought him. He pushed her up against the door, her knife pressed to her throat. She shivered with excitement.

"Get out of my way," he snarled. Ruby looked up pleadingly, observing him carefully.

"No, Sam. This is suicide!" He pushed her aside, the knife still at her throat, then walked out the door. Now, it was time to swoop in and rescue him. He'd do anything she wanted after that.

* * *

Sam stumbled into the room, fatigue making his bones ache. Ruby hovered behind him, he could feel her eyes on him but she was thankfully holding her tongue for now. He slumped down into a chair.  
"You were right," he said tiredly. "I'm not ready for Lilith. Thank God she wasn't actually there. But you saved my life. I'm sorry, Ruby."

"It's OK," she said gently. She knelt down on the floor and grasped both of his hands. "We're in this together, you and me," she told him. "But when it's all over, you have to live, Sam. It's important." He stared at her, she was vibrating with tension.

"Why?" he asked her. "Why is it so vital that I live?" She looked down and her cheeks flushed.

"You're important to me, Sam," she confessed. "I'm a demon, I'm not supposed to feel things for humans. For anyone. But I can't bear to lose you." Sam shifted uncomfortably. This felt almost like a declaration of love. But, as she herself admitted, she was a demon. Demons didn't feel love, it was part of what made them demons. She looked up at him, her eyes watery and her bottom lip quivered appealingly. He stroked a finger along her jaw and she closed her eyes.

"We can't control what will happen," he said softly and kicked himself when a single tear escaped from under her left eyelid and ran down her cheek.

"I know," she said unsteadily. "We won't speak of this again. But I wanted you to know that I want you to live because I want you to live. That's it." Sam felt like an asshole. She was being honest and forthright with him, acting out against her nature and putting herself at risk for him. And he was being selfish and self-absorbed. He resolved to do better.

"I need to sleep," he said. She nodded and he watched her for a moment before standing and holding out his hand. "Let's go to bed."

* * *

It was dark, so completely dark that Sam could hardly believe it. Where was he? There was a low rumbling off in the distance, and the sounds of screams. That was normal, he found himself thinking and then shook himself. _What the Hell?_

The rumbling was getting closer and a flare of light seared his retinas. He could hear shouting and the sound of metal striking metal. None of the words made any sense, whoever was shouting wasn't speaking the room he was in lit up with a searing white light. Stone walls, dripping with some unidentified ooze, surrounded him and a metal door was fitted into one light was coming from the barred window in the door. He looked down at himself and was disturbed to see he was naked and covered in blood. He breathed in and out, slowly.

A loud clanging sound joined the general cacophony and a sound behind him made him turn around. There was a man strapped to a table, covered in even more blood than he was. Puffy eyes watched him warily. He looked familiar but Sam's head was fuzzy and he couldn't quite figure out who it was.

"They're coming…" he rasped. Sam frowned at him.

"Who?" he asked. "Who's coming?" The man smiled.

"Avenging… angels…"

Sam awoke with a start. What the fuck had that been about? Ruby stirred beside him.

"Sam?" she said sleepily. "You OK?"

"Yeah," he told her. "Go back to sleep." She made a sound and her breathing slowed. Sam waited for a while before slipping silently out of bed and into the bathroom. He stared at himself in the mirror. There was a smear of blood at the corner of his mouth from where he'd fed on Ruby earlier. A cold shiver ran down his spine. _What was he doing? Was the Trickster right, was he being led down a path by Ruby that he wouldn't otherwise travel?_ He wished Dean was here, his brother would know what to do. Of course, Dean would probably be in agreement with the Trickster, which was a strange thought.

He closed his eyes for a moment and the dream came back to him, flashes of red and white and black. He had the oddest feeling that this dream wasn't just a nightmare, but was telling him something. He just couldn't put his finger on what it was. He stared at his reflection and after a moment, began to get the peculiar sensation that what was looking back at him wasn't him. His reflection gave a twisted smile that was like an icy dagger in the gut. He reached fingers up to his face and started when he felt his lips twisted into the expression he could see in the mirror. He felt sick.

There was a knock at the door. "Sam?" Ruby's voice called out. "You OK in there." He took a deep breath.

"Yeah," he replied. "Give me a moment." He heard her pad away from the door and began to run cold water into the sink, splashing some on his face and neck. Then he dried himself on a towel, took a few deep breaths and returned to the bedroom.

* * *

There was someone hammering at the door. Bobby frowned to himself, there weren't many hunters who knew his home address and even fewer who'd dare turn up unannounced. He tried to suppress a surge of hope that it was Sam at the door. The boy hadn't spoken to him in months, there was no reason to believe he'd show up now. _I'm sorry, John,_ he thought. _I failed you. I failed your boys._ He yanked the door open and all coherent thought died.

"Surprise," the thing that was wearing Dean's face said, looking hot and flustered and apprehensive. Bobby's mouth worked but no sound came out.

"I… I don't..." he finally managed.

"Yeah, me neither," it said. _It sounded so like him, damn it. He should do something, holy water silver, salt. Something!_ It stepped inside. "But here I am." But Bobby wasn't one of the most successful and long-lived hunters for nothing. He shook off his shock and whipped out the silver knife at his belt, lunging forward and slashing at the monster with real hate in his heart. Whatever this thing was, how dare it! How dare it pretend to be his beloved boy? The monster grabbed his arm and twisted it around easily. It was strong, but not more than human strong. He broke it's grip and backhanded it in the face.

"Bobby!" the thing protested. "It's me!"

"My ass!" Bobby growled at it. The creature grasped a chair and shoved it between him and Bobby. It held its hands out.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait!" It said, clearly stalling for time. "Your name is Robert Steven Singer. You became a hunter after your wife got possessed, and...you're about the closest thing I have to a father. Bobby, it's me." A lump was blocking Bobby's throat. _Whatever this thing was, it was obviously a mind reader. And a damn good mimic._ He lowered the knife and stepped forward, hoping to catch this thing off guard. He placed on hand gently on its shoulder and then suddenly brought the blade up, slashing at it for all he was worth. But he was an old man and this monster was fast and strong. It quickly subdued him and wrested the knife away.

"I am not a shapeshifter," it said. Bobby considered that. _It might be telling the truth, but that didn't mean it wasn't a monster._ A horrifying thought struck him, damn Sam and his insistence on not burning Dean's body.

"Then you're a revenant!" he said triumphantly. The revenant shoved him backwards, holding his knife in front of it.

"All right," it said. "If I was either, could I do this - with a silver knife?" It rolled up its left sleeve and sliced into the skin with a grimace. Blood oozed from the cut, but there was no sign of burning or other reaction to the silver. Bobby stared at the wound in horror. _Could it be…?_

"Dean?" he said uncertainly.

"That's what I've been trying to tell you," Dean said ruefully. A wash of emotions, pain, relief, guilt, love crashed over Bobby and he grabbed Dean, dragging him close for a tight hug. Dean held on just as tight and they stood there for a moment, reveling in the feel of being together again. Finally, Dean clapped him on the back and they separated.

"It's good to see you, boy," Bobby said gruffly. Dean grinned at him.

"Yeah," he agreed. "You too." But after a moment, his face fell. Bobby gave Dean a troubled look.

"But how?" he asked. "How did you bust out?" Dean shook his head, looking just as disturbed.

"I don't know," he admitted. "I just… uh.. Woke up. In a pine box." Water splashed over his face and he paused, spitting it out. Bobby had the good grace to look embarrassed.

"I'm not a demon either, you know." Dean said patiently.

"Sorry," Bobby said, feeling stupid. "Can't be too careful." He grabbed a towel and handed it to Dean and then headed into the living room.

"You know, this don't make a lick of sense," Bobby commented. He looked at Dean, who was wiping his face with the towel.

"Yeah," Dean replied. "Yeah, you're preaching to the choir." Bobby shook his head at him.

"No, you don't understand. Your chest was _ribbons_. Your insides were slop. And you've been buried for _four months._ Even if you could slip out of Hell somehow and back into your meatsuit-"

"I know," Dean interjected. "I should look like a Thriller video reject." Bobby's mouth twitched with the urge to smile.

"What do you remember?" he asked tentatively. Dean shrugged.

"Not much. I remember being a Hellhound's chew toy and then… lights out. Then I come to, six feet under, that was it." Bobby dropped heavily into his chair. "Sam's number's not working," Dean added. "You uh… he's...he's not…"

"Oh, he's alive," Bobby said sadly. "As far as I know."

"Good," Dean said with relief. Then the rest of Bobby's words began to sink in. He stared at Bobby. "Wait. What do you mean, as far as you know?"

"I haven't talked to him in months," Bobby confessed. Dean's eyes widened in shock.

"You're kidding," he said, appalled. "You just let him go off by himself?"

"He was dead set on it," Bobby told him heavily.

"Bobby, you should've been looking after him!" Dean cried, unable to believe Bobby had let him down like this.

"I tried," Bobby said urgently. "These last months haven't exactly been easy, you know. For him or me. _We had to bury you._ " Dean shifted uncomfortably.

"Why _did_ you bury me, anyway?" he asked suddenly.

Bobby leveled a look at him. " _I_ wanted you salted and burned. You know, usual drill. But Sam… Sam wouldn't have it." Dean looked down at himself and gave a half-laugh.

"Well, I guess I'm glad he won that one."

"He said you'd need a body when he got you back home somehow. That's about all he said." Bobby said, remembering. Dean narrowed his eyes at him.

"What do you mean?" he said suspiciously as Bobby wiped a hand over his face.

"He was quiet. Real quiet. And then he just took off. Wouldn't return my calls. I tried to find him, put out feelers everywhere I could, but he didn't want to be found.

"Oh, dammit!" Dean swore. "Dammit, Sammy."

"What?" Bobby said, a cold feeling in his chest.

"Oh, he got me home OK. But whatever he did, it is bad mojo." The cold feeling began to spread.

"What makes you so sure?" Bobby challenged but in his heart he knew Dean was right. Dean looked him in the eye.

"You should have seen the grave site. It was like a nuke went off. And then there was this…" he shook his head, searching for words. "This force, this presence. I don't know, but it blew past me at a fill-up joint. And then…" He looked uncertain for a moment and then began to take off his jacket. "And then there's this." Pink and raised, stark against his skin was the outline of a hand. A brand. The cold feeling had taken over most of Bobby's body by this point. He stood up.

"What in the Hell…" he breathed.

"It was like a demon just yanked me out. Or rode me out." Dean said finally.

"But why?" Bobby said, confused.

Dean's face became drawn. "To hold up their end of the bargain," he said in a hard voice. Understanding dawned and Bobby felt a little lightheaded.

"You think Sam made a deal," he said faintly.

"It's what I would have done," Dean admitted.

* * *

There was a sharp rap at the motel door. Ruby bounced up off the bed.

"That'll be the pizza," she called out. "I'll get it." She opened the door and stared at the two men on the doorstep. _Dammit. Bobby Singer had found them And then recognition dawned. Dean Winchester was back from Hell? What the fuck?_ She kept her face blank.

"So where is it?" she said expectantly, vaguely amused at the confusion on their faces.

"Uh," Dean said, looked flummoxed. "Where's what?" She rolled her eyes at him. Hopefully she could convince them to go away before Sam emerged from the bathroom.

"The pizza," she drawled. "You know, the one that takes two guys to deliver?"

"I think we got the wrong room," Dean said and she almost sagged with relief. But luck was not on her side tonight, as she heard Sam moving behind her.

"Hey," he said. "Is-" She felt rather than heard him stop dead. She turned to see him swallow, his eyes flicking between his brother and his surrogate father.

"Heya, Sammy," Dean said softly, his voice vibrating with emotion. Sam just continued to stare at him. _Fuck, this was not good,_ Ruby thought. _It had taken a Hell of a lot to get Sam functional and then invested in going after Lilith. And here was Dean Winchester to fuck things up again._ Dean pushed past Ruby and she stepped aside to let him in. Sam pulled a knife from his belt and lunged at his brother. Apparently Sam couldn't tell this really was Dean. OK, she could work with that. She screamed. Dean blocked Sam easily and Bobby dived into the fray, grabbing Sam's shoulders and pulling him away. Sam struggled in his grip, but his heart clearly wasn't in it.

"Who are you?" he shrieked at Dean, pain distorting his voice.

"Like you didn't do this?" Dean yelled back. _Ah, so Dean thought Sam had made a deal._ Ruby knew he hadn't, the order that absolutely nobody was to make a deal with Sam Winchester had come from the top and not even the Lilith would have dared to cross… him.

"Do what?" Sam said incredulous.

"It's him," Bobby assured him. "It's really him. I've been through all this already. It's really him." Sam just stared at Dean, the struggle draining out of his body.

"What…" he said faintly. Dean advanced towards him, wary. He gave a grin.

"I know," he said insouciantly. "I look fantastic, huh?" Ruby tried not to roll her eyes. Sam grabbed Dean suddenly and pulled him into a desperate hug. She watched Bobby, his eyes shining. Finally, Sam pushed Dean back and examined him. _Things were going to Hell in a handcart, so to speak. She needed to derail this, quickly._

"So," she said suddenly. "Are you two like… together?" She layered as much insinuation into it as she dared. Sam looked at her as if he'd forgotten she was even in the room.

"What," he said vaguely. "Uh, no. No, he's my brother." She eyed him for a moment. OK, time to cut her losses and regroup. Lilith was expecting an update anyway.

"Uh," she said disbelievingly. "Got it… I guess. Look, I should probably go."

"Yeah," Sam agreed. Damn him. "Yeah, that's probably a good idea." She grabbed her clothes and disappeared into the bathroom, radiating as much wounded pride as she could manage.

When she reemerged, Sam walked with her to the door.

"So," Ruby said in a sultry tone. "Call me."

"Yeah," Sam said absently. "Yeah, sure thing, Kathy." Hah! She put on a disappointed expression.

"Kristy," she corrected him. Sam blinked.

"Right," he said stupidly.

* * *

Ruby considered her options as she left the motel. Lilith didn't carry a cellphone, but she really couldn't afford to use the usual channels. The only way this plan was going to work is if nobody other than Lilith, herself and her master knew what was really going on. Sam was smart and far too principled to be easily tempted down this dark path and now Dean was back in the picture, it was going to be that much harder. She thought for a moment on how she might separate the two brothers again. She could kill Dean of course, but since she had no idea who had pulled him out of Hell, that could be a bad idea. Maybe her master had a plan for him too. No ordinary demon could have achieved this, that's for sure. Lilith might know who had done it, but she might not. Just like their little conspiracy, there may be other plans in motion. She'd just have to spin a web of distrust between the brothers. That shouldn't be too hard, Dean already believed Sam had done something to spring him from Hell, and she could still detect the damage she'd inflicted on their relationship when they were trying to save Dean from going to Hell in the first place.

She sighed and pulled out her cellphone, flicking through the contacts and then pressed dial.

"Yeah," a male voice said. "Ruby?"

"Hi," she said, keeping her voice light. "I need a favor."

"Really," the voice said. What was that accent supposed to be, she wondered. English?

"Yes," she said urgently. "Look, I know you and I don't see eye to eye on a lot of things. But we have a common enemy."

"Lilith," the man spat.

"Exactly. You hate her guts, right? Want her dead. She creams off the best of the souls that you and your cohort of crossroads demons collect, presents them as her own work." Crowley was silent. "Look, you don't have to say anything," she continued. "But, I need a way to get a message to Lilith. To draw her out. But I can't risk any of her people overhearing and she's not exactly tech savvy."

"Hmm…" Crowley mused. "OK. I can help you. Now explain to me why I should."

"Like I say, you hate Lilith. So do I. So do most other demons. Help me with this and I'll make sure everyone knows it was your machinations that brought her down." She could hear the demon turning her proposal over in his mind. Crowley was a powerful but dangerous ally. _If_ she could get him onside.

"Why would you do that," Crowley said finally. "Why wouldn't you want all the glory for yourself?"  
"Because I'm not powerful enough to take over as Queen of the Crossroads," Ruby said persuasively. "But you are strong enough to be King. If I help you climb that greasy pole, I expect to be rewarded. Everyone gets what they want." She could feel his suspicion receding. Altruism was anathema to demons, but power plays and self-interest, that would sell.

"OK," he said. "You've got yourself a deal. Where are you?" She didn't doubt for a second that he knew exactly where she was. This was a test.

"Chicago," she said. "The Astoria Hotel."

"Fine," Crowley said. "Meet me at the Silver Feather. It's on Brookhaven Street."

"A strip joint," she said sarcastically. "Classy."

"I'm a classy guy," Crowley informed her. "Dress the part."


	3. Chapter 3

The Silver Feather was one of the more upscale gentlemen's clubs in Chicago. They eschewed flashy neon and gaudy colors for muted stained wood and subtle lighting. Ruby had ditched her meatsuit in an abandoned warehouse a half-mile from here and taken over one of the dancers on her nightly commute on the L.

Crowley was wearing some guy who looked like a realtor or maybe a car salesman. Fading blond hair, pale gray eyes and an unnatural looking tan. She sashayed over and gave him a wide smile.

"Would you like a private dance?" she asked boldly. Crowley eyed her for a moment and then gave her a short nod. She led him into one of the private rooms, twitching her hips for all she was worth.

"All right," Crowley said once she'd pulled the curtain across. "Knock it off." She'd heard about Crowley's inclinations. Seems the rumors were true.

"So," she said. "Straight to business then." Crowley pulled an amulet out of his jacket pocket. It was hideous, made of some weird grayish metal. She curled her lip. "What is that?" she sneered. He leveled a look at her.

"It's an old Celtic talking amulet," he explained. "My… mother made it." Ruby arched a brow at him. "She was a very powerful witch."

"Witchcraft," Ruby said dismissively, but reached for the amulet anyway. Crowley snatched it away.

"Ah, ah, ah," he said. "Not until you hear what I want in return."

She shrugged. "Shoot."

"You're generous offer of support if I were to challenge for King of the Crossroads was appreciated," Crowley said reflectively. "But it's not enough. I want something a little more… tangible."

"Name it," she said easily. He leaned back.

"The Colt," he said.

She stared at him. " _The_ Colt?" she asked, astonished.

"Yep," he replied. "I know Lilith has it. Get it for me when you take the bitch out, and this is all yours." Ruby eyed him uncertainly. _What did this sneaky, puffed up Brit want with the Colt?_

"Fine," she agreed. "I guess I don't have much choice." Crowley rubbed his hands together in pure delight.

"Then we have a deal," he said. His face twisted then with distaste and she rolled her eyes at him.

"Try not to look too revolted," she advised him, and leaned in to seal the deal with a kiss.

* * *

Back in her other meatsuit, she sent the dancer off with a vague memory of hitting her head and directed her to the nearest hospital. She wasn't going soft, she just didn't want a hunter picking up on her trail. She dangled the amulet and pursed her lips. This had better work. Crowley had refused to let her write down the incantation, although he was vague and evasive about why. But she had an excellent memory. She recited it, and then spoke Lilith's name aloud, slowly at first and then faster and faster until the amulet began to glow.

"Ruby?" Lilith sounded startled. "How are you doing this?"

"Witchcraft," Ruby said shortly. "You don't have a cellphone and I didn't want to use our usual channels."

"Of course," Lilith said, sounding pleased. "You must have a reason for this… unorthodox approach."

"Yes, mistress," Ruby said. "Dean Winchester is back from Hell."

"What!" Lilith screeched and the amulet quivered. "How?"

"I don't know," Ruby admitted. "I was hoping you would." There was a growling sound. So Lilith was out of the loop on this too. In truth, Ruby had suspected as much.

"This complicates matters," Lilith said.

"I agree," Ruby told her. "I can work to drive a wedge between him and Sam, but it will take time. Time we don't have."

"There's no help for it," Lilith said. "Sam Winchester is the only one who can do this. Another suitable vessel will not be born again for a millennium at least. And his majesty is… eager."

"Of course," Ruby said respectfully.

"Was there anything else?" Lilith said sweetly. Ruby swallowed.

"The Colt," she ventured. "I understand you know where it is."

"I do," Lilith said easily. "Why do you want it?"  
"I don't," Ruby replied. "I made a deal for it. In exchange for this amulet." Lilith was silent for a moment.

"Let me guess," she said finally. "Crowley."

"You know it," Ruby agreed. "He's a snake, but he's powerful and a useful ally. At least for now."

"What does he want it for?"

"I don't know," Ruby admitted. "I didn't ask. If I had, he'd only have lied or refused to answer. You know Crowley, he's always playing the long game."

"Fine," Lilith said. "I'll make sure you get it." Ruby sagged with relief. If Lilith had decided she wanted the stupid thing, just to spite Crowley, this could have been sticky.

"Now," Lilith said. "Tell me more about Dean Winchester's miraculous escape from Hell." Ruby frowned to herself. Lilith sounded troubled, and Lilith never sounded troubled. What did it mean?

She told her boss everything she knew, which wasn't much.

"Nothing in Hell could have done this, save for his majesty of course. But he's confined to the Cage, he can't extend his influence like this right now. Nor can I think of a reason why he would. He was delighted when news of Dean Winchester's fall into the Pit was reported to him. Why would he let him go?"  
"So who else could do this?" Ruby whispered.

"Something far more powerful than any of the denizens of Hell. Not even a Knight of Hell could accomplish such a thing." Lilith sounded scared and Ruby shivered. This was bad.

"You must find out what happened," Lilith commanded. "We cannot act without information."

* * *

Ruby eyed the young demon she'd captured distastefully. He was practically shaking with fear.

"You disgust me," she told him. "How old are you?"

"Newborn," the demon admitted. "Died last year." She rolled her eyes.

"How on earth did you swing this gig then? It took me two centuries to convince my boss to let me topside."

"I was lucky," the demon admitted. "I had been sent to report on some strange noises heard from one of the Devils Gates. The one Azazel opened. I escaped."

"Of course you did." Ruby said, thinking hard. "So, who's legion were you assigned to?"

"Phenex," the demon said quietly. Ruby barked out a laugh.

"Phenex the dreamer? Who fantasizes of his triumphant return to Heaven? Give me a break."

"It's true," the demon said. Ruby glared at him.

"It's not important. You're not important. Neither is he." She pulled out her knife and began playing with it idly. "Now. Tell me who broke Dean Winchester out of Hell." The demon started.

"I have no idea," he said in surprise. "Nobody knows. Everyone's terrified. Not even Lilith has that kind of clout." Ruby punched him, not because he was wrong but just because he was pathetic. "Ow!" he complained.

"Shut up," she told him. "Who else is here? Anyone with more backbone than you?"

"Penemue," the demon said. "She's here." Ruby raised an eyebrow at him.  
"Really," she drawled. "That is interesting." She shoved the knife into his body and watched him burn out screaming.

* * *

"All right," Ruby said to Penemue, who was wearing the diner's waitress. "Enough games, Pen. What happened? Who pulled Dean Winchester from the Pit?"

"You won't believe me," Penemue said miserably. If she's still had eyes, maybe she would have wept. "But we're doomed. We're all doomed."

"What happened to you, Pen?" Ruby coaxed. "You're a fine demon, strong and clever. What did this to you?"

"An angel," Penemue said. Ruby scoffed.

"An angel! There's no such thing." She stood up and a glint of light caught her eye. She moved carefully to the window and cursed when she recognized the Impala parked across the street.

"I thought so too. But it was an angel, Ruby. His name is Castiel and he. Is. Terrifying." Ruby glanced at her. Penemue seemed sincere and her eyes bore testament to some powerful being's wrath. But she wasn't willing to believe in angels just yet. She headed into the kitchen to await Sam's entry.

Sam was getting much better at this, Ruby had to admit. His focus was better, and he could pull most low-ranking demons without even breaking a sweat. Penemue would present a bigger challenge, but he was more than up to the task. Once Pen had been dispersed, she opened the kitchen door.

"Getting pretty slick there, Sam," she said. "Better all the time." He gave her a smouldering look and she shivered deliciously. But then he looked down at the dead waitress at his feet and his face fell.

"What the Hell is going on around here, Ruby?" Sam asked her.

"I wish I knew," Ruby said ruefully. No way was she going to tell him what Penemue had told her. Angels, indeed.

"We were thinking some high-level demon pulled Dean out," Sam told her. She shook her head.

"No. No way, Sam. Human souls don't just walk out of Hell and back into their bodies easy. The sky bleeds, the ground quakes. No demon can swing that. Not Lilith. Not anybody." Sam huffed out a breath of frustration.

"Then what can?" he demanded. Ruby spread her hands helplessly.

"Nothing that I've ever seen."

* * *

Dean was struck with the weirdest sense of deja vu. It wasn't the first time he'd felt it since his return from Hell. But it was really strong now, and his entire body seemed to be tensed with… anticipation? Bobby was hard at work, spray-painting symbols on every square inch of the warehouse walls, floor and ceiling. Dean quirked a smile.

"That's one Hell of an art project you've got going there," he snarked.

"Traps and talismans from every faith on the globe. How you doin'?"

"Stakes, iron, silver, salt, knife. I mean we're pretty much set to catch and kill anything I've ever heard of."

Bobby eyed him warily. "Are you sure you still want to go through with this?" he asked. Dean rubbed the back of his neck. "What's on your mind boy?"

"I don't know," Dean admitted. "It's stupid but… I feel like I've done this before." Bobby stared at him, his expression unreadable.

"I don't much like the sound of that," he said finally. "Can you be more specific?"

Dean shook his head. "It's hard to explain. I'm… on edge but not in a bad way. Like I know something awesome is about to happen. Which is stupid, whatever this Castiel is, I don't imagine he's very friendly. Or at least he won't be once we try to kill him." Bobby had a strange look on his face. "What is it, Bobby?"

"I don't know. But the name, Castiel. It's… familiar. I must have seen it in an old spell or something. But I can't remember where."

"Well," Dean said. "That's probably a good thing. It means there might be some lore out there on this thing."

"Hmm," Bobby said, unconvinced. "This is still a bad idea."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Yeah, Bobby. I heard you the first ten times. What do you say we ring the dinner bell?" Bobby nodded, clearly reluctant. But he made his way over to the ritual bowl and began the spell.

* * *

"So," Ruby said easily. "Are you going to tell Dean about what we're doing?"

"Yeah," Sam said, but he didn't sound too happy about it. "I just gotta figure out the right way to say it." Ruby leveled a skeptical look at him. "Look, I just need time, OK? That's all."

"Sam," Ruby said, gripping his fingers tightly. "He's going to find out and if he doesn't hear it from you he is going to be pissed."

Sam pulled his hand away. "He's going to be pissed anyway," Sam admitted. "I mean, he's so hardheaded about this psychic stuff he'll just try to stop me." Ruby considered him for a moment.

"Look, maybe I'll just take a step back for a while," she suggested. She felt vaguely gratified at the look on his face.

"Ruby, you…" he started and she cut him off.

"I mean, I'm not exactly in your brother's fanclub. But he is your brother, and I'm not going to come between you." _At least, not right now._

"I don't know if what I'm doing is right. Hell, I don't even know if I trust you."

Ruby suppressed the urge to roll her eyes at him. "Thanks," she said sarcastically. But in truth, this was going better than she'd hoped. She'd been concerned that Sam was just going to drop her and their little project now Dean was back in his life. Sam gave her an indecipherable look."

"But what I do know is that I'm saving people. And stopping demons. And that feels good. I want to keep going." She smiled to herself. That wasn't the only thing that felt good. But she'd take what she could get for now.

* * *

"I'm bored," Dean complained, pulling himself onto the table. Bobby laughed and sat beside him. Dean began swinging his legs.

"You sure you did the ritual right?" Dean asked and Bobby glared at him. "Sorry. Touchy, touchy, huh"

The words were barely out of his mouth when a loud rattling began shaking the roof. The panels lifted and banged and Dean grabbed his shotgun and ran for the back of the warehouse, Bobby hot on his heels. The metal panels continued to rattle and bang but nothing appeared.

"Wishful thinking, but maybe it's just the wind." Dean offered. Bobby shook his head. The door burst open and a smartly dressed man stalked into the warehouse. Dean couldn't breathe. Firstly, whoever this guy was, he was stunning. Jet black hair, bright blue eyes and a dizzying sense of power. He shook himself but he couldn't get rid of the sense that this was fate. That he'd been waiting all his life for this moment. And that somehow, they'd met before. He ducked as the light bulbs began shattering in a shower of sparks and shards of glass. Bobby started firing and after a momentary pause, Dean followed suit. They might as well have been firing party poppers at this thing. _Not a thing,_ Dean's brain said. _Cas._ He hesitated. Bobby elbowed him and he grabbed Ruby's knife and squared off against the stranger who was not a stranger.

"Who are you?" Dean demanded. But he knew. They'd just called him here. Castiel. He felt cold when Castiel replied with the words he already knew in his head.

"I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition." He'd known that's what he would say. Those words seemed almost carved into his soul. He felt dizzy. What the fuck was going on?

"Yeah. Thanks for that," he said, plunging forward and burying Ruby's knife into Castiel's chest, right down to the hilt. Castiel looked down at the knife, looked slightly bemused. Dean's lips twitched, it was so like him. He pulled himself up short. How the fuck would he know what this… thing was like? Castiel pulled the knife out and dropped it to the floor. Bobby was making his own attack but without even looking, Castiel grabbed his weapon, swung Bobby around and touched two fingers to his forehead. Bobby dropped like a stone.

"We need to talk, Dean. Alone," Castiel said seriously. Dean glared at Castiel and then crouched over Bobby, checking his pulse.

"Your friend's alive," Castiel said, unconcerned.

"I'll ask you again," Dean said. "Who are you?" He knew, he knew but he needed to hear it out loud.

"Castiel."

"Yeah, I figured that much, I mean what are you?" That wasn't what he'd meant at all, but he wasn't going to admit to it.

"I'm an Angel of the Lord." Castiel was saying, flicking through one of Bobby's books on the table. Dean's head was spinning. _I'm an Angel of the Lord._ He'd heard these words before too.

"Get the hell out of here. There's no such thing," he denied. But he was just going through the motions.

"This is your problem, Dean. You have no faith." Castiel told him. He narrowed his eyes at Dean and lightning flashed. On Castiel's back, great shadowy wings appeared against the wall of the warehouse. Every nerve ending on Dean's body was on high alert.

"Some angel you are. You burned out that poor woman's eyes."

Castiel appeared unmoved. "I warned her not to spy on my true form. It can be... overwhelming to humans, and so can my real voice. But you already knew that."

Dean nodded. "Yeah. The gas station and the motel." Castiel gave him an odd look.

"So what's this?" Dean asked, waving a hand up and down Castiel's form. "Holy tax accountant?" Castiel looked down at himself.

"This? This is... a vessel," he explained. _Vessel,_ the word echoed in his head. _Lucifer's vessel. Michael's vessel. Castiel's vessel._ Dean felt like he might pass out.

"You're possessing some poor bastard?" he stammered. Castiel gave a small smile.

"He's a devout man, he actually prayed for this."

"Uh huh," Dean said. "What did you threaten him with if he didn't agree?" Castiel looked troubled.

"I told you, he prayed for this."

"Right. Fine, suit yourself. Explain to me why would an angel rescue me from Hell?" Dean folded his arms across his chest.

"Good things do happen, Dean," Castiel said earnestly.

Dean's face hardened. "Not in my experience." Castiel stepped closer, into his personal space. He should step back, he hated feeling crowded. But this felt… right. Natural. He shivered and he realized to his horror that regardless of what was going on in his head, his body was extremely interested in the close proximity of the angel.

"What's the matter? You don't think you deserve to be saved?"

Dean stopped breathing, spots appeared in front of his eyes. "Why'd you do it?" he whispered, swaying.

"Because God commanded it," Castiel said, eyes boring into his. "Because we have work for you." It was all too much for Dean's brain and he crumpled gracelessly to the floor.

* * *

When he awoke, Cas had sat down on the floor next to him.

"You're awake," Cas said. "Good."

"Cas?" Dean said faintly. "Hey, man. It's good to see you." Cas stared at him, eyebrows diving over his nose.

"We just met," the angel said. "Well, other than in Hell, but I don't think you remember that."

"Uh," Dean said intelligently. "Yeah. About that."

Cas looked at him curiously. "Are you feeling quite well?" he asked. "Do humans normally pass out so easily? That seems… inconvenient."

"What?" Dean asked. "No. Uh. I just had a shock, that's all. It said this might happen."

"What?" Cas said sharply. "Nobody is supposed to know I am here, other than you."

"Uh. OK, it's a bit complicated. But we've known each other for years. You're going to have to trust me."

"You didn't even know who I was until a few minutes ago," Cas said reasonably. Dean shook his head.

"I know. I think whatever Tenebrae did, it wiped my memory out temporarily. But for me, this is the past. Years ago. I'm from 2016."

"Impossible," Cas declared. "By 2016 the world will be…" He broke off, his mouth closing with a click.

"Destroyed by the Apocalypse? Yeah, I know. I was there. So were you. But… there was a change of plan." Cas looked utterly baffled.

"A change of plan?" he rumbled.

"Yeah. Look, I don't know if I should tell you what happened. I mean, what if telling you changes something. In a bad way."

Cas nodded. "Of course. If you've been sent back, whoever did it is very powerful. I assume it is another angel, although the name Tenebrae is unfamiliar to me. I will abide by your decision for now." Dean gulped. Apparently Cas was just as stiff this time around as last time. And this was going to be much harder this time, because he knew what was supposed to happen. But making sure it didn't go off the rails? He groaned.

"Are you in pain?" Cas asked.

He shook his head. "No. But I'm gonna be."

Something had gone terribly wrong. Tenebrae had assured him that he and Sam would retain their memories, and only Cas might not. But Sam clearly had no memory of these events and he'd only recovered his just now. And, why had Tenebrae sent him back so far? Tenebrae had implied that he'd go back a few years to just before Metatron closed the Gates of Heaven. Being thrown all the way back to the Apocalypse? He'd not counted on that.

* * *

Bobby stared at the pile of books on his desk. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Sam sitting in a chair in the corner of the room talking to Dean. Dean had been in a strange mood ever since they'd met Castiel in that warehouse and Bobby didn't think it was just the concept of angels that was disturbing him.

"You seem awfully calm about this," Sam commented. "I expected you to be in denial. Didn't you tell me just a few months ago that there was no such thing as angels?"

Dean shifted and looked down at the floor. "It's complicated," he said.

"Is there any chance it could be something else?" Sam pressed. "Could this Castiel be lying to you about it? If he's a demon, well. Demons lie."

Bobby looked up at the boys. "A demon who's immune to salt rounds and devil's traps and that knife of yours?" he asked archly. "You said it yourself, even Lilith is afraid of that thing!"

"I'm kinda surprised at you," Dean said finally. "I thought you'd be more willing to believe."

"Well, I probably would be," Sam admitted. "But somebody has to play devil's advocate." A peculiar look crossed Dean's face, Sam noticed. "And we don't know. Not for sure. So I'm not going to take what it said at face value."

"You two chuckleheads want to keep arguing religion, or do you want to come take a look at this?" Bobby said grumpily. Sam hauled himself out of his chair and followed his brother over to Bobby's desk. "I got stacks of lore - Biblical, pre-Biblical. Some of it's in damn cuneiform. It all says an angel can snatch a soul from the pit."

"What else?" Sam said. Dean glared at him.

"What else, what?" Bobby asked, looking confused.

"What else could do it?" Sam said. "There must be something."

"Airlift his ass out of the hot box? As far as I can tell, nothing." Bobby spread his hands at his books for emphasis.

"Okay. So I guess this means we're betting on there being a God, too?" Sam mused. Dean rolled his eyes.

"At this point, Vegas money's on yeah." Bobby commented.

"Okay, look. I know you're not all choirboy about this stuff, but this is becoming less and less about faith and more and more about proof." Sam said to his brother. Dean's face was blank. "Dean?"

"I'm not saying there's no God. Just that he's out of the picture right now. AWOL. On vacation," Dean said finally. Sam peered at him.

"How long have you thought like this?" he asked curiously. "Last time we talked about God, you were definitely sure He didn't exist." Dean shrugged.

"Hell changes a man," he said cryptically. "It doesn't matter. God might be real, but he doesn't give a crap about me personally."

"You can't know that," Sam objected. Dean leveled a look at him that made him shiver.

"Oh, believe me," Dean said icily. "I can."

"Fine. What do we know about angels?" Sam asked. Bobby hefted a huge pile of books off his desk and placed them in front of the brothers.

"Start reading."


	4. Chapter 4

The Impala swung into the parking lot of the small cafe where Ruby was waiting. Sam was talking on his phone and looking exasperated. _Probably talking to Dean_ , she thought with a snicker.

"Ruby," Sam said by way of greeting. She put her hands on her hips and gave him a hard look.

"So, is it true?" she asked. She'd heard from several sources now that angels were responsible for raising Dean Winchester from the Pit, and that many had been seen walking the earth for the first time in millennia.

"Is what true?" Sam said, stalling for time.

She frowned at him. "Did an angel rescue Dean?" Sam shifted into a more defensive posture.

"You heard," he said grimly. She nodded.

"Who hasn't?" she drawled. Sam gave her a troubled look.

"We're not 100% sure, but I think so. Dean seems convinced too." Ruby looked surprised.

"I would have thought he'd take more persuading," she said thoughtfully. Then she gave a one-shouldered shrug. "OK. Bye, Sam." She turned on her heel and started walking away. Sam grabbed her arm and dragged her back.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait. What's going on?" he demanded. She gave him a look. Was he serious?

"Sam, they're angels. I'm a demon," she explained patiently. "They're not gonna care if I'm being helpful. They smite first, and then they ask questions later."

"What do you know about them?" he said. She chewed on her lip.

"Not much. I've never met one, and I don't really want to. All I know is that they scare the holy hell out of me. Watch yourself, Sam."

"I'm not scared of angels," Sam declared. Ruby began to laugh.

"Then you're a fool," she said simply and walked away, feeling Sam's eyes on her back. She wasn't really going to abandon the plan, but she needed to regroup and discuss this development with Lilith. Her boss was not going to be pleased.

* * *

Once Ruby had found herself a quiet spot in a local park, she tucked her cellphone under her chin so that nobody would think she was talking to herself and pulled Crowley's amulet out of her pocket. She recited the incantation as quietly as she could.

"Ruby. Tell me you have news," Lilith voice crackled.

"Yes. But none of it is good," Ruby said apprehensively. "The word on the street is that Dean Winchester was rescued by angels. And angels are walking the earth once more."

"I see. That makes sense, I suppose," Lilith mused. "If there is to be an Apocalypse, the chess pieces for both sides have to start lining up on the board."

"What do you want me to do?" Ruby asked. "I've backed away from Sam for now, I don't want angels on my tail."

"The plan proceeds exactly as we discussed," Lilith told her. "Give Sam a wide berth for a few days if you want. He'll come begging at the door soon enough."

* * *

Dean looked down at Sam sleeping sprawled out on Bobby's couch and an affectionate smile tugged at his lips. He looked up and spotted a dark figure in the kitchen.

"Excellent job with the witnesses," Cas said laconically. Dean gave a careless shrug.

"The last time this happened, I asked you if you were hip to all this," Dean told him.

"I was, uh, made aware," Cas agreed.

"I was mad last time. Thought you should have lent a hand. After all, I almost got my heart ripped out of my chest," Dean sighed. He looked down at himself.

"But you didn't. Either time." Cas said casually. Like this was normal.

Dean barked out a laugh. "It's funny," he said. "Once, I thought angels were supposed to be guardians. Fluffy wings, halos - you know, Michael Landon. Not dicks."

"Read the Bible," Cas told him. "Angels are warriors of God. I'm a soldier."

"Yeah. That's what you said last time too."

Cas ignored him. "I'm not here to perch on your shoulder. We had larger concerns."

"There were people getting torn to shreds down here!" He broke off with a curse. "Dammit, Cas. I swore I wasn't gonna get so mad at you this time. It's not your fault. God's AWOL and you're left holding the can."

Cas looked startled. "How do you…"

"Not my first rodeo, remember. Last time I didn't even believe there was a God." Dean told him, rolling his eyes.

"There's a God." Cas said firmly.

Dean laughed again, a bitter broken sound. "Yeah, I know. He exists, he just doesn't want to involve himself."

"The Lord works…" Cas started and Dean glared at him.

"If you say "mysterious ways," so help me, I will kick your ass. So, the witnesses. Sign of the apocalypse."

Cas gave him a sidelong look. "That's why we're here. Big things afoot," he said opaquely.

"Yeah, yeah. I remember. Sixty-six seals, Lilith breaking them left, right and center."

"Mm-hmm. Twenty other hunters are dead."

"Of course. She picked victims that the hunters couldn't save so that they would barrel right after us."

"Lilith has a certain sense of humor," Cas said drily. Dean grinned at him, he'd forgotten how deadpan the angel used to be. But then his face fell.

"Well, we put those spirits back to rest," he said.

"It doesn't matter. The seal was broken," Cas said heavily. He was staring at the floor, as if contained the secrets of the universe.

"That's not true," Dean told him. "It matters." Cas's head came up sharply and he stared at Dean.

"Why?"

"Because those spirits were tormented. And they would have kept troubling the living until they were put down." Dean gazed into Cas's eyes, the pale moonlight filtering through the filthy kitchen window leaching them of their color.

"So," Dean said after a moment. "We're gonna stop Lucifer."

"That's why we've arrived."

"Well, you did a bang-up job last time, let me tell you."

Cas's eyes were wide. "We failed to prevent Lucifer rising last time?" he asked quietly. Dean gave him a twisted grin.

"Yeah. Sorry to rain on your parade."

Cas was shaking his head slowly, almost disbelievingly. "No," he said. "We lost this time, but there are other battles, other seals. Some we'll win, some we'll lose. Our numbers are not unlimited. Six of my brothers died in the field this week."

"Doesn't matter," Dean told him. "All that matters is if we want things to go differently this time, we have to do things differently. You need to listen to me." He felt rather than saw the change in the angel's demeanor. He was making the same mistake as before, forgetting that this Cas wasn't really his Cas. This Cas hadn't rebelled against Heaven or sacrificed himself for his friends.

"You think the armies of Heaven should just follow you around?" Cas demanded savagely. "There's a bigger picture here. You should show me some respect. I dragged you out of Hell. I can throw you back in." His face was so close to Dean's the hunter could scarcely breathe. And then he was gone.

"Dammit, Cas!"

Sam padded into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes. "You all right? What's wrong, Dean?"

Dean just stared at him for a moment. He'd never noticed before how much the events of the Apocalypse had changed Sam. Aged him. Hard to believe he was the younger brother these days. Uh, well, OK, not now but back in 2016. Man, this time travel stuff was messing with his head. Sam was staring at him curiously.

"So... You got no problem believing in... God and Angels?" Dean asked.

"No, not really." Sam said easily. "I mean, I always have really."

"So, I guess that means that you believe in the Devil," Dean watched Sam for any hint that he remembered anything but Sam just gave him a troubled look.

"Why are you asking me all this?" he asked. Dean sighed.

"I don't even know how much I should tell you," he said. "You were supposed to remember."

Sam raked a hand through his hair. "It's a bit early for cryptic conversations," he commented.

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose against an impending headache. "OK. So, this is gonna sound nuts. But… I've done this before. We've done this before." Sam stared at him, like he'd lost his mind.

"What do you mean, you've done this before?"

"Me, you and the Apocalypse. It was years ago. I'm from 2016."

"2016," Sam said dryly. "Right."

"What, God and his angels, Lucifer and his demons, that's all hunky dory, but time-travel's beyond the pale?" Dean asked.

Sam shook his head slowly. "No. I mean, you obviously believe it. Umm. How far back?" Dean looked at him, confused. "When did you realize you'd been through this before?" Sam clarified.

"That's not quite how it works, but uh, I'd had hints of it ever since I got back from Hell. I didn't remember properly until I met Cas again."

"So Cas is still around in 2016?" Sam asked.

Dean gave him a guilty look. "Kinda. Like I said, it's complicated."

"OK. Let's leave the far future for now. Why are we talking about Lucifer again?"

"Because Lilith is breaking the seals to release Lucifer from the Cage. Once she does that, he's free to walk the earth again."

"OK. So we stop her. Kill the bitch," Sam said, slapping one hand against his thigh.

"Uh, no. We can't." Dean admitted. "You see, Lilith is the last seal. Last time, you killed her and Lucifer got free." Sam was staring at him in horror.

"I unleashed Lucifer on the earth?" he whispered. Dean nodded sympathetically. It was a lot to take in. "Dean, this doesn't make any sense."

"Sorry, but it's true. It wasn't really your fault. You didn't know Lilith was Lucifer's first born, that killing her was the last seal. I don't think even she knew in the beginning. But Ruby manipulated you to the point where you wouldn't listen to reason."

Sam's face hardened. "I should have known this would be about Ruby," he snarled. "Look, Dean, you don't have to like her. You don't even have to trust her. But don't insult my intelligence with ridiculous stories about time travel and Satan."

"I swear, Sam, it's the truth." Dean pleaded. He'd been sure he could make Sam listen to reason this time.

Sam stood up angrily. "Bull. You've had it in for Ruby from day one and she's done nothing but help us. She was there for me when you were in Hell. Who else was there?"

"Bobby would have been there if you'd let him!" Dean barked, his temper getting away from him. "But you shut everyone else out."

Golden eyes flashed in Sam's mind. Bobby wasn't the only one he'd shut out.

"I'm sorry, Dean. But I'm gonna need more proof before I'm going to believe you've come from the future to save us."

"Fine," Dean said. "Here's proof. How did I know about Ruby? And how do I know about the demon blood?"

Sam recoiled in shock, his face going white. "It's not what you think," he said defensively.

"Yes it is," Dean said tiredly. "It was before. You're probably in too deep for me to stop this part happening again but I'm gonna try anyway. You're an addict. Even now I bet you're twitchy for a fix. You think it makes you stronger, but you're wrong. It makes you weak. You'll carry it for the rest of your life, that weakness. Don't get me wrong, in 2016 you've been clean for years. But I'll never stop watching you."

"You're wrong," Sam kept repeating. His mouth was open, his skin pale.

Dean shook his head. "Just think about it."

* * *

Ruby watched the young demon from her perch on the second floor of a rundown apartment building. This was one of the less salubrious neighborhoods and nobody would notice her sitting there. Folks around here tended to hurry by, heads down. Sometimes they'd whisper a prayer. Her quarry was leaning against the door to a TV repair store. He was obviously waiting for someone, the question was who? He was a minor player in Lilith's organization and Ruby knew he didn't know where Lilith was right now. But Sam needed a demon to practice on and to feel like they were making progress in their pursuit. She'd noticed a change in his demeanor ever since Dean had shown up unexpectedly. A noise that sounded like something skittering on roof tiles caught her attention and she looked around cautiously.

"Who the fuck are you?" she snarled at the tall, red-haired man sitting nonchalantly on the edge of the roof.

"It's not important, but you can call me Luke," he said. "I'm here to talk, that's all."

"So talk," she instructed. Whoever this guy was, he wasn't human. Not a demon either, but he emanated power.

"You've got your hooks into Sam Winchester," he observed, his cat-like eyes flashing green-gold.

Ruby scrambled upwards and stood on the roof to face him. "This is ridiculous. Are you one of Crowley's gang?"

"No," the redhead said idly. "I'm not a demon. And you already knew that so stop pretending. I know how smart you are, Ruby. And I'm not here to interfere, necessarily. But maybe I have something you need. Or want."

"Quit playing games," Ruby said. She looked down at the demon she'd been watching. He didn't seem to have noticed the drama playing out on the rooftops above.

"I want some of his blood. Not much, a drop or two ought to do it."

"What for?" she challenged. Nothing good, she knew that. Lucifer would have her guts for garters if Sam ended up in thrall to whatever the hell this being was.

"Insurance," Luke said. "You know you're going to fail, don't you? Oh, Lucifer will be set free, don't you worry. But Sam will kill you for making him do it. And even if he doesn't, Lucifer will wring your pretty neck before the dust even settles. He hates demons. Always has."

"You sure you're not in league with Crowley?" she asked, eying him nervously. "You sound just like him."

"Crowley's smart. Knows exactly how this house of cards is constructed. But no, I don't work with demons, usually."

"Too good for us are you?" Ruby sneered at him.

Luke canted an eyebrow at her. "No. We just operate in different worlds. My people aren't much concerned with humanity, most of the time."

"Except now you want some of Sam's blood."

"Yes." He looked her up and down. "I need the blood of a human who drinks demon blood. It's for a ritual. It doesn't have to be Sam, except he's the only one I know who's doing it right now."

Ruby wasn't sure if she believed him. "What does the ritual do?"

"I'm using it against an enemy of mine. The blood will taint him, make him weak. Sam won't actually be involved in any way. I promise. You don't need to worry that I'll do something to damage Lucifer's pet."

"Do I look like an idiot?" Ruby shot back. "You think I'm going to believe that you're not up to something else. Something involving Sam?"

"You can believe what you like, darlin'" Luke drawled, moving across the rooftop at impossible speed and dragging her close to him. He hooked the golden chain around her neck and grinned savagely at the tiny vial attached to it. He tugged hard, and it snapped, sending a shower of golden fragments down onto the street below. Shit, who the hell was this thing? She should never have been so stupid as to carry Sam's blood around with her like this. It made her feel powerful for some reason. Luke dropped her off the rooftop like he was discarding a candy wrapper, and she crashed through the top of a dumpster, the sound reverberating off the damp brick walls. Fuck.

Slowly, painfully, Ruby climbed out of the metal container and looked around. Simon, the young demon she'd been tailing had gotten spooked at the sudden commotion and had vanished. Great. Now she'd have to track him down all over again.

* * *

Dean sat up suddenly, his heart pounding and sweat pouring off him in rivulets that ran down his face. He started when he noticed Cas sitting on his bed.

"Hello, Dean. What were you dreaming about?" the angel rumbled, his eyes bright and earnest.

"I'd forgotten about this little quirk of yours. I managed to convince you to quit it years ago. Until the nightmares started again. But that was different. What do you want?" Dean sighed.

"Listen to me. You have to stop it." Cas said urgently.

"Stop what?" Dean said fuzzily. He just wanted to go back to sleep.

Cas leaned forward to press two fingers to Dean's forehead and he lurched out of the angel's reach and fell out of bed. His breath huffed out of him as he hit the floor hard.

"Dammit, Cas. You can't just go zapping people like that," he complained. He pulled himself upright. "Anyway, there's no need to send me back to stop my mom making that deal with Azazel. I already failed once. I don't know what would happen if you tried it again." Cas frowned at him.

"If you are already present, I won't be able to send you back," he said thoughtfully. "I'd like to try anyway."

"You don't believe me, do you?" Dean asked him.

The angel shook his head. "It's not that I don't believe you. I just think you are… mistaken."

"Mistaken. All right, but don't blame me if this doesn't work," Dean said, holding his arms wide. Cas's mouth twitched. He reached out his fingers and touched Dean's forehead. Nothing happened.

That wasn't quite true. From Dean's perspective, Cas was quite sure it would seem that way. But for him, no there was definitely something. He was acutely aware of the contours of Dean's skull under his fingertips. The warmth of his skin. He traced his fingers down the side of Dean's face and along his jawline, noting the slight tremble as he did so. Dean's pupils were wide and his mouth slightly parted. Cas was suddenly struck with the urge to run the pad of his thumb across Dean's plump lower lip. He swallowed and snatched his hand away. Dean said nothing, just continued to watch him.

"It seems you are correct," he said stiffly. He stood up and paced, unable to contain this strange nervous energy that was thrumming through him.

"So, what now?" Dean was saying. Cas shook himself. He needed to focus.

"So the purpose of this exercise was supposed to show you that destiny can't be changed, Dean. All roads lead to the same destination."

"Yeah, I remember." Dean recalled. "You said you sent me back for the truth. So that I would know everything you did."

"That's right," Cas said, his tone sad. He looked meaningfully at Sam's empty bed. "We know what Azazel did to your brother. What we don't know is why – what his endgame is. He went to great lengths to cover that up." Dean wanted to tell him, explain what was going on. But he was afraid of what Cas would do with the information. This Cas and Sam weren't friends. Hell, he wasn't sure if Cas was _his_ friend.

"So, where's Sam?" he asked, resigned. Waterman Street? He couldn't remember.

"425 Waterman." Dean grabbed his keys and his jacket and headed out the door. "You brother is headed down a dangerous road, Dean, and we're not sure where it leads. So stop it. Or we will."

"I know," Dean said under his breath. "But destiny's a bitch."

* * *

The demon-possessed man strapped to a chair spat derisively on the floor.

"I won't ask again," Sam told him. "Where's Lilith?"

"Kiss my ass," the demon said, his eyes turning black with a click.

Sam gave him an unpleasant smile. "I'd watch myself if I were you," he warned. Ruby watched silently. Sam was still too easily goaded, and it was bad for his control.

"Why? Huh? Because you're Sam Winchester, Mr. Big Hero? And yet here you are, slutting around with some demon. Real hero." He sneered at Sam, who stiffened.

"Shut your mouth," Sam snapped. Ruby stepped forward, wondering if she should intervene. Sam was off his game tonight, he'd been moody and uncommunicative when he'd showed up.

"Tell me about those months without your brother. About all the things you and this demon bitch do in the dark." Shit, this demon was well informed. She exchanged a look with Sam. Ruby felt the moment Sam's self-control snapped. He held out his arm and began to force the demon out of the man. It was unsteady and a couple of times she thought he was going to lose it. But finally, the smoke burned through the floor and was gone. Ruby smiled and Sam grinned back at her. Neither of them noticed Dean at the window.

Sam stepped closer to the unconscious man in the chair and checked the pulse at his neck.

"He's still alive," he said triumphantly.

"How'd it feel?" Ruby asked him, delighted with his progress.

"Good. No more headaches." He started untying the man.

"None? That's good." The man groaned and his eyelids fluttered. "That's excellent, Sam."

"Hey, hey. I got you. It's all right." Sam told the unfortunate ex-demon host. He wasn't ignoring Ruby's compliment, far from it. He just wanted to bask in the warmth of his own achievement. "OK, up we get!" he said cheerfully as he helped the man out of the chair and began walking him to the door. The door swung open and banged against the wall to reveal a very angry Dean.

"So... Anything you wanna tell me, Sam?" Sam tried to look as innocent as possible, aware of Ruby cautiously moving behind him.

"Dean, hold on, okay? Just let me-"

"You gonna say, "let me explain"? You're gonna explain this? After what we talked about? After everything I told you?" Dean sounded disappointed and Sam couldn't bear it. He looked over his shoulder at Ruby, but she had her calm, blank face on. There was no help there.

"It's good to see you again, Dean," she said cheekily.

"Can't say I agree, Ruby." Dean growled at her, grabbing her and shoving her up against the wall, her knife in his hand raised to strike.

"No!" Sam yelled, grabbing his hand. "Don't!" Sam was strong, much stronger than Dean these days, but Dean had learned a few dirty street fighting tricks over the years, and he held on to the blade. Ruby's face twisted for a second and then she spun around and pinned Dean against the wall.

"Ruby! Stop it!" Sam said urgently. Ruby ignored him. She was tired of everyone interfering in her plans. Dean was choking and struggling under her fingers. It would be so easy just to snap that neck. But Sam would never forgive her, and the whole scheme would fall into dust. She let go with an audible sigh and stepped back.

"Well, aren't you an obedient little bitch?" Dean snarked. She glared at him, but resisted the urge to gut him on the spot.

"Ruby," Sam said urgently. She ignored him, holding Dean's gaze. _I will kill you one day_ , she promised silently. "Ruby, he's hurt." Who cares, she thought. Then she met Sam's gaze. OK, he wanted her out of the way. And they really did have to do something with this loser. She looped the man's arm over her shoulder and began helping him out of the room.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Dean challenged. She rolled her eyes. _Would he never stop?_

"The ER... unless you want to go another round first," she said sweetly. She had no intention of taking this man anywhere but a cold ditch somewhere, but Sam didn't need to know that. This guy had seen too much. He couldn't be allowed to live. But none of this showed on her face. Dean gave her a hard look but remained silent. She walked out of the room with the man.

"Dean," Sam said. Dean ignored him, stomping heavily through the door.

Sam screwed his eyes up and huffed out a breath. He'd read this page a dozen times now, but it just wasn't sinking in. The throaty roar of the Impala opened his eyes again. Sam waited on tenterhooks until the motel room door slammed open and Dean strode into the room. His brother crossed the room and began grabbing his stuff, throwing it haphazardly into his duffel bag. Sam got up and walked over to him.

"Dean, what are you doing?" he asked. Dean ignored him and continued packing. "What, are you, are you leaving?"

"I warned you, Sam. Last time, I didn't know what the consequences were. Neither did you, although you should have realized that you were on the wrong path. But you don't have that excuse this time. So. Fine. Maybe Cas is right, that you can't fight destiny. But if that's the case, you don't need me. You and Ruby go fight demons." He grabbed his bag and headed for the door. Sam stepped into his path.

"Hold on. Dean, come on, man," Sam protested. Without another word, Dean's right hook caught him solidly in the jaw, the force actually whirling Sam around. He gritted his teeth against the urge to retaliate.

"You satisfied?" he asked acidly. Another fist connected with his face and Sam could feel warm wetness on his lip. "I guess not."

"Do you even know how far off the reservation you've gone? How far from normal? From human?" Dean yelled.

Sam shook his head, his brother wasn't thinking straight. "I'm just exorcising demons," he pleaded.

"With your mind!" Dean barked. "And the rest!"

"I send them back to hell. It only works with demons, and that's it."

Dean grabbed him and forced him backwards. "I know you're lying to me, Sam," he growled.

"I'm not. I told you!" Sam insisted. He pushed Dean away roughly.

"And I have every reason in the world to believe that. Dammit, Sam. This is just like last time. I really wanted things to be different." his shoulders slumped and he began walking away.

"Look, I should have said something," Sam said. Dean stopped, waiting. "But try to see the other side here."

Dean turned around to face him, his expression incredulous. "The other side?" he asked darkly.

"I'm pulling demons out of innocent people," Sam told him earnestly.

"That's what the knife is for," Dean replied.

"The knife kills the victim! What I do, most of them survive! Look, I've saved more people in the last five months than we save in a year."

Dean shook his head. "That's what Ruby wants you to think. She tricked you into using your powers, Sam." He shook his head sadly. "It's a slippery slope, brother. Just wait and see. Because it's gonna get darker and darker, and it ends with you unleashing Lucifer from the Cage."

"No!" Sam denied. "I'm not gonna let it go too far." Dean gave him a bitter smile, sweeping his hand outwards and knocking the lamp to the floor with a crash.

"It's already gone too far, Sam. Maybe Dad was right, that I should kill you if I couldn't… save you. If you weren't my brother... I would wanna hunt you." Tears gathered in Sam's eyes, ripping at Dean's heart. His brother nodded and stared at the floor. "So will other hunters."

Sam looked up. "You were gone. I was here. I had to keep on fighting without you. And what I'm doing... It works."

Dean raked his hands through his hair in frustration. "Yeah? Well, tell me. If it's so terrific... then why'd you lie about it to me? Because I told you I knew where this path leads!" Sam couldn't hold his gaze and let his eyes fall to the floor. "Why did an angel tell me to stop you?" Dean continued and Sam looked at him in astonishment.

"What?" he faltered.

"You won't listen to me? Well, Cas said that if I don't stop you, he will. See what that means, Sam? That means that God doesn't want you doing this. So, are you just gonna stand there and tell me everything is all good?" Sam opened his mouth but nothing came out. The silence was shattered by his cellphone ringing. He answered, pinching the bridge of his nose as he did so.

"Hey, Travis. Yeah, hey." he said. Dean watched him, wondering how he could get Sam off this awful track he seemed determined to follow. Sam was stalling Travis but he'd eventually take the job. Rougarou, if Dean remembered correctly. Sam hung up and looked at Dean.

"Travis needs our help," he said. "Are you in or out?"


	5. Chapter 5

Crowley sipped appreciatively at the fine cognac the sweating congressional aide had given him and leveled a look at the senator sitting opposite. He swirled the balloon glass and let the silence stretch out.

"So… I hear you're good at… fixing things," Senator Fay stuttered. Crowley raised an eyebrow at him. His silver hair swept back from a regal brow and his roman nose made a distinctive profile that was a regular feature on Sunday morning talk shows and late night comedy programs. But his usually cheerful face was drawn and gray. Where was the debonair four-term senator who had clawed his way up to Banking Committee chair?

"That's one way to put it," he said easily. "Is something broken?"

"Uh, well, no, not really," Fay said. He looked down at his hands. "I… well, I made a mistake. And I thought maybe you could… you know. Make it go away."

Crowley placed his glass on the desk and pursed his lips. "I can't say without knowing what the mistake is," he pointed out.

"I had this intern…" he said and Crowley suppressed the urge to groan. Humanity were so predictable sometimes! "Well, he was very good, you know. Smart, keen. Good looking kid. Only trouble is…"

"You had an affair with him?" Crowley prompted.

"What? No! I'll have you know I'm happily married. And Marcus is straight. But it turns out he has something of a temper. When his girlfriend Christel fell pregnant, he came to me for help and I arranged for her to visit a nice, private clinic near Baltimore for a discreet abortion." Fay shifted uncomfortably, and tugged at the collar of his shirt. He loosened his tie and Crowley noted the golden crucifix that hung around his neck. "Christel refused to have the termination and Marcus lost it, grabbed her by the throat and strangled her. He called me last night in a panic. So I, like an idiot, went over to his apartment and helped him move Christel's body to Rock Creek Park. We buried her in a shallow grave and then came back to DC. Except, when I got home I realized my wristwatch was missing. I guess it must have fallen off when we were hauling Christel's body around. I've checked Marcus's apartment, my car, everywhere. Except of course Rock Creek, since I don't dare go back there. But I think that's where I might have dropped it. That watch was a twentieth anniversary present from my wife, and it is engraved with our initials. And it's a Piaget, so it's pretty distinctive. The police will easily be able to trace it back to me."

Crowley had listened to the whole sorry tale with amusement. Oh, this was a pretty mess. He grinned at the senator who visibly recoiled. "So what do you want me to do?"

"Well, I uh, I guess you're some kind of fixer? Like in the movies? Go up to Rock Creek and find my watch! Once that's gone, there's nothing to link the girl back to me."

"Except that she's the girlfriend of your intern, who you arranged an abortion for," Crowley said reasonably.

"Nobody at Chesapeake Bay Clinic knows her real name. They'll just think she had second thoughts. Must happen all the time. And Marcus was the one who killed her!" Fay said desperately. "I was told you could sort this out!"

"Don't panic," Crowley said, making a quelling gesture with his hands. "I was just trying to ascertain exactly what it was you wanted me to do. I can go get your watch, sure. But I can also make Christel's body disappear completely. As if she never existed."

"You can do that?"

"Do it all the time," Crowley assured him. He pulled a contract out of his jacket and began to unroll it, the senator's eyes bulging at the sight. "You get ten years, good years to live out your life and then when the time's up, we come for your soul. It's a good deal. Most people don't get offered a deal this good, but I like you." He grinned again.

"My soul?" Fay stammered. "I don't understand."

Crowley rolled his eyes. "I thought you were a good Catholic boy? Although arranging abortions and covering up murders isn't exactly good Catholic behavior I suppose."

"You're Lucifer?" Fay exclaimed.

Crowley bared his teeth in a snarl. "No. I told you, my name is Crowley. I'm a demon. A crossroads demon, to be precise."  
"I don't know what that means."

"It means, sonny jim, that I can make deals in exchange for your soul. Clean up your little mess here." Crowley told him.

"But I go to Hell, after ten years," Fay said. He was white, and Crowley wondered if he might pass out. "I don't even believe…"

"You don't believe in Hell? You really aren't a very good Catholic are you?" Crowley taunted. "Yes, Hell is real and Lucifer is real and demons are real. Now, do you want this deal or not?"

Fay hesitated and Crowley considered the man for a moment. "Do I need to sweeten the pot a little?"

"Uh…" Fay looked around, as though certain he was being watched. Perhaps he was. "Like, what exactly?"

"Well, a soul's a big thing to bargain with considering how trifling your little problem is. So why don't we throw in something else?" Crowley gave a one-shouldered shrug. "Senate majority leader? President?"

"Supreme Court Justice," Fay said suddenly.

Crowley gave him a slow, sultry smile. "Smart. No elections to worry about, elected for life. Good retirement plan for your wife. Nice. OK, you got a deal. Sign here."

Fay snatched the parchment from Crowley's hands and signed it with a beautiful Mont Blanc pen. The man like his fancy trappings all right. Crowley took it from him and tucked it away in his jacket.

"Now," he said, rubbing his hands together. "Now, we seal the deal."

* * *

More than anything, it was the silences that got under Dean's skin. He looked over at Sam who was staring sightlessly out of the window.

"You did the right thing, you know. That guy was a monster, there was no going back." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sam lower his head. _Dammit, Sammy._ "Sam, I wanna tell you I'm sorry. I've been kind of hard on you lately." His brother lifted his head, looking utterly broken.

"Don't worry about it, Dean," he said listlessly. Dean shook his head.

"No. Look, your, uh, your psychic thing, it always scared the crap out of me. And that's without knowing what I know now."

"Look, if it's all the same... I'd really rather not talk about it," Sam told him. He looked over and Dean couldn't help smiling.

"Wait a minute. What? You don't want to talk? You?" He had to jostle Sam out of this mood somehow. Sam didn't reply or even smile. After a moment he sighed.

"There's nothing more to say. I can't keep explaining myself to you. I can't make you understand,"

"You're right, Sam. I can't understand. But I'm trying to stop things turning out the way they did last time and you're fighting me as hard as you did then!"

"Because this thing, this blood, it's not in you the way it's in me!" Sam cried. "I've got to deal with it. Me."

"Not alone," Dean offered. Sam gave another sigh and returned his gaze to the window.

"Anyway, it doesn't matter. These powers... it's playing with fire. I'm done with them.I'm done with everything."

"Really?" Dean asked doubtfully. He really wanted to study Sam's expression, but he ran the risk of running them off the road. "Well, that's a relief. Thank you."

"Don't thank me. I'm not doing it for you,"Sam said acidly. "Or for the angels or for anybody. This is my choice."

"You said that last time too," Dean pointed out. "It didn't last long."

"Will you stop that?" Sam snapped. "You've warned me about last time. I heard you. Give it a rest." Dean eyed him for a moment and then returned his eyes to the road.

"All right, Sam. But I'll be watching you."

* * *

Ruby looked down distastefully at the man propped up against the sticky bar. He was so drunk, she really ought to cut him off, but she needed the info this bum had, dammit.

"Issa church. Well, nun-thingy."

"Nun-thingy" Ruby said dryly. "You mean a nunnery."

"Yeah, that. In M'land." He belched and Ruby wrinkled her nose at the smell of cheap whiskey and cheaper cigarettes.

"In… your land?" she said, confused.

"No, no. M'r'land."

"Oh, _Maryland_. Where in Maryland?"

"Heli… cop.. ter… City…" He slumped forward and toppled off the bar stool. Helicopter City. What the Hell did that mean?

The bar manager appeared behind her. "Dammit, Jenny, how much has he had to drink?"

"Only four shots," Ruby defended. "He must have been drunk when he got here."

"All right, but if this happens again, it's the pink slip for you. Come on, Reggie. You can sleep it off in the back room." He picked the drunk off the floor and dragged him into the store room where he kept a couch for this kind of occasion. Ruby shrugged. No doubt Jenny, the owner of this particular meatsuit, would be pleased not to get fired, but right now this wasn't a concern. Helicopter City, MD. That didn't even sound like a real place. She walked out to Jenny's car and then smoked out, back into the meatsuit she'd left in a warehouse nearby.

When she got back to her car, there was a note on the windscreen. A parking ticket? She yanked it out from under the wiper and unfolded it.

_R,_

_Meet me in San Antonio. At the dance hall._

_L_

Ruby frowned, the note purported to be from Lilith but her boss had never communicated with her this way before. But the 'dance hall' was known to her, the ballroom of an old hotel in the city where Lilith liked to unwind by pretending to be the devil and freaking out the locals. Ruby sighed to herself and dug out her car keys. She needed money for a flight, no way was she driving all the way to Texas from Indiana.

* * *

Sam fiddled with the lock of the motel room and cursed. Damn these cheap-ass motels and their flimsy locks. He finally managed to open the door and at the sight of two men stood inside, drew his weapon and shifted into an offensive stance.

"Who are you?" he challenged. Dean barreled in behind him and grabbed his arm.

"Sam! Sam, wait! It's Castiel." He pushed Sam's gun downwards. Sam just stood there, his mouth opening and closing. "The angel. Remember?" He cast a look at the other man in the room and a flicker of distaste crossed his face, too quick to see unless you knew Dean well. Sam turned his attention to Castiel, a sense of awe and wonder filling him. He smiled.

"Hello, Sam," Castiel said deadpan.

Sam swallowed. "Oh my God – er – uh – I didn't mean to – sorry. It's an honor, really, I – I've heard a lot about you." Great. He sounded like an idiot. He stepped forward and offered his hand out. Castiel looked down at it and his face twitched with… revulsion? Behind him he heard the door close and he waited. Sam waved his hand and Castiel tentatively placed his right hand in Sam's. Sam shook it vigorously.

"And I, you. Sam Winchester –" Castiel dropped his hand like it burned. "The boy with the demon blood. Glad to see you've ceased your extracurricular activities." Sam's stomach lurched.

"Let's keep it that way," the man at the window said. Did all angels have such deep voices, Sam wondered.

"Yeah, okay, chuckles," Dean snarked. He looked at Cas. "I see you brought a friend." Cas ignored him.

"This, the raising of Samhain, have you stopped it?" Cas asked, his tone stressed. "Have you located the witch?"

"Yes, we've located the witch. Or at least, we know who it is."

"So it's not dead yet?" Cas asked. He walked over to the table by the bed and produced a hex bag. "Apparently, the witch knows who you are too. This was inside the wall of your room. If we hadn't found it, surely one or both of you would be dead. Do you know where the witch is now?"

"In theory," Dean admitted. "We're working on it." This was where his memory was really letting him down. Even having been through this before, the details were vaguer than he might have liked.

"That's unfortunate," Cas was saying.

"What do you care?" Sam asked.

"The raising of Samhain is one of the 66 seals," Cas answered but he kept his eyes on Dean.

"Yeah, this is about your buddy Lucifer." Dean said, sounding exhausted.

"Lucifer is no friend of ours," the man by the window said.

"It's just an expression," Dean told him dismissively.

"Lucifer cannot rise. The breaking of the seal must be prevented at all costs." Dean watched the angel closely. His face was pale and a thin sheen of sweat coated his top lip. Cas was upset and not hiding it very well.

"Look, why don't you tell us where the witch is right now, we'll gank her and everybody goes home." He knew perfectly well Cas couldn't do this, but he didn't want Uriel to know about his time travelling excursion.

"We are not omniscient," Cas was saying. "This witch is very powerful, she's cloaked even our methods"

"Okay, well we already know who she is, so if we work together –" Sam suggested.

"Enough of this," Uriel said firmly, turning from the window.

"You – uh, both of you – you need to leave this town immediately," Cas said.

"Why?" Sam asked. He had no desire to question an angel but this Castiel seemed ill at ease. Something was wrong and Sam would bet his last dollar the other man had something to do with it.

"Because we're about to destroy it, Uriel and I." Castiel said coldly. Sam gaped at him and then exchanged a horrified glance with Dean.

"This is stupid," Dean said aggressively. "You're gonna smite the whole friggin' town?

"We're out of time." Cas said patiently. "This witch has to die, the seal must be saved."

"There are a thousand people here,"

"One thousand, two hundred fourteen, to be precise," Uriel informed him with a smug look. Sam just continued to stare at them all, appalled.

"And you're willing to kill them all?"

Uriel gave an unconcerned shrug. "This isn't the first time I've… purified a city."

"Look, I understand this is regrettable," Cas was saying. Dean looked like he might burst into tears, Sam thought.

"Regrettable?" Dean said softly. Cas was staring at him, holding his gaze.

"We have to hold the line. Too many seals have broken already," he said. Dean looked away.

"So you screw the pooch on some seals and this town has to pay the price?" he asked roughly.

"It's the lives of one thousand against the lives of six billion. There's a bigger picture here." Cas moved forward and grabbed Dean's face, forcing the hunter to look at him. "Try to understand." Dean stepped back, pulling his head away.

"Right, cause you're bigger picture kind of guys," he said bitterly. He sounded like his heart was breaking.

"Lucifer cannot rise. He does and hell rises with him. Is that something that you're willing to risk?" Dean gave him an unfathomable look.

"I already did," he said opaquely. "It's too late."

Sam threw him an exasperated look and then returned his focus to the angels. "We'll stop this witch before she summons anyone. Your seal won't be broken and no one has to die," he said urgently.

Uriel snarled at him. "We're wasting time with these mud monkeys." Cas flicked him a warning glance.

"I'm sorry, but we have our orders," he said. Again, that odd tone in his voice. Dean hadn't noticed it the last time, had been too horrified by what the angels had planned. _This was the moment,_ he thought. _The moment Cas began to doubt. He should feel guilty, he supposed, but he didn't._

"No, you can't do this, you're angels, I mean aren't you supposed to – You're supposed to show mercy!" Sam cried. Uriel's face was contemptuous.

"Says who?" he growled.

"We have no choice," Cas said, although his voice suggested otherwise. Dean grabbed his arm.

"Of course you have a choice. I mean, come on, what? You've never questioned a crap order, huh? What are you both, just a couple of hammers?"

"Look, even if you can't understand it, have faith. The plan is just." Cas said.

Sam's eyes shimmered. "How can you even say that?" he said brokenly. _And that there, was the shattering of Sam's faith,_ Dean thought. _Sam made his own choices, but if the angels hadn't dumped so comprehensively on everything he believed, maybe Sam could have been kept from this course of action._ Despair ached within him.

"...it comes from heaven, that makes it just…" Cas was saying. Dean's temper flared at the look on his brother's face.

"Oh, it must be nice, to be so sure of yourselves," he said. Cas flinched for a moment, then rallied, his own anger smouldering.

"Tell me something, Dean, when your father gave you an order, didn't you obey?" Dean blinked at him. That was a low blow.

"Well, sorry boys, looks like the plans have changed," he said easily, hiding his pain as best he could. The look in Cas's eyes told him he had not been that successful.

"You think you can stop us?" Uriel said derisively. Dean got right up in the smug angel's face.

"No, but if you're gonna smite this whole town, then you're gonna have to smite us with it, because we are not leaving. See, you went to the trouble of busting me out of hell. I figure I'm worth something to the man upstairs. So you wanna waste me, go ahead, see how he digs that."

Uriel made an impatient gesture. "I will drag you out of here myself."

"Yeah, but you'll have to kill me, then we're back to the same problem. I mean, come on, you're gonna wipe out a whole town for one little witch. Sounds to me like you're compensating for something." He turned back to Cas. "We can do this. We will find that witch and we will stop the summoning." Dean gazed at Cas, praying for him to listen.

"Castiel! I will not let these peop–" Castiel held up a hand and Uriel's mouth closed with an audible click.

"Enough!" Cas said. He gazed at Dean for an extended moment. "I suggest you move quickly."

* * *

_Two days_ , Chief Roddy Larson thought to himself. _Two days to retirement. And it was like everyone had lost their goddamn minds._

"Sir?" Deputy Morgan prompted, his pinkish, baby-smooth face making Larson feel even older. Had he ever been that young?

"What is it, kid?"

"My uh, report. On the Walmart fire."

Larson scratched his bald head and grunted. That was a strange story, all right. A big store catches fire like that, well it happens. Electrical fault, some employee having a secretive smoke while on duty, something like that. Except there were witnesses who swore up and down that the fire had been set by some guy who apparently walked into the place and started throwing fireballs like he was Gandalf in a bad mood. Larson had dismissed it, people saw weird stuff all the time. Didn't mean it was true.

"The CCTV footage you asked for," Morgan said. "It uh, I think those people were telling the truth."

"Lemme see," Larson demanded. Morgan handed over his laptop and played the video. It was grainy and a little jerky but it did seem to corroborate what the witnesses had reported. Dammit.

"OK, son, leave it with me. I know a specialist who can help us out."

"A specialist," Morgan nodded. "Uh, OK." He backed out of the room and Larson flicked through the Rolodex on his desk. Marcy was always trying to convince him to put these numbers in his phone but so far he had resisted her. A man can always find what he wants when it's written down. He didn't trust these electronic things not to up and break right when he needed them. He smiled when he found the card he wanted and dialed the number.

"You've reached the voicemail of John Winchester…"

* * *

Sam's face had taken on that surly, mulish look that meant he was seriously upset. Dean was feeling quite unhappy too, Cas seemed much harder to get through to this time around. Maybe the intervening years had just dulled the memory of how single-minded the angel had been when they'd first met.

"What?" he said pugnaciously.

Sam kept his gaze firmly on the hex bag in his hands. He took a deep breath.

"Nothing," he said as he turned the hex bag over a few times. "I thought they'd be different." Disappointment colored his voice.

"Who, the angels?" Dean asked. Sam gave a small nod.

"Yeah."

"Well, I tried to tell ya," Dean said sagely.

Sam leaned back and closed his eyes. "I just… I mean, I thought they'd be righteous," he said softly. "I thought they'd be glorious and just and kind and merciful."

"Well, they are righteous, I mean, that's kinda the problem. Of course there's nothing more dangerous than some a-hole who thinks he's on a holy mission." Dean told him sarcastically. "As for that other stuff, well, not so much."

"But, I mean, this is God? And Heaven? This is what I've been praying to?" Dean sighed at the sound of his brother's dreams disintegrating.

"Look man, I know you're into the whole God thing, you know, Jesus on a tortilla and stuff like that. Turns out there's a lot we didn't know. Angels are assholes, mostly. There are a few who are OK. You don't have to give up on this stuff, is all I'm saying. Babe Ruth was a dick but baseball's still a beautiful game." The despair on Sam's face was killing him. "Come on, Sam. What's in the bag?" Sam opened the hex bag in his hand, and picked out a small blackened lump.

"Well, are you gonna figure out a way to find this witch, or are you just gonna sit there fingering your bone?" Dean snarked as he cranked the engine.

"You know how much heat it would take to char a bone like this, Dean?" Sam said, fully engaged in the hunt again.

Dean shook his head, "No."

"A lot, I mean, more than a fire or some kitchen oven."

"Okay, Betty Crocker, what does that mean?" Dean asked. He had remembered where they had to go next, but Sam was engaged again which meant he could just go with the flow for a while.

"It means we make a stop," Sam said. Dean pulled away from the kerb with a throaty roar. Neither of them noticed the tall red-haired man watching them from behind a tree.

"You never bothered much with humans before," Loki said dryly and Lugh turned to see his old friend leaning against a wall, an amused smile on his face that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"This one's… intriguing," Lugh admitted. "And I was bored."

"You know who he is," Loki said. "I'm telling you, don't get tangled up in that mess. You'll regret it."

"Was that a threat?" Lugh asked mildly.

Loki shook his head. "A threat? No, more like a warning. Angels are dicks, I'll grant you, but they're powerful dicks and they hold a grudge like you would not believe. I've tussled with the winged assholes a time or two and it was annoying. And they're lining up for the big one this time."

"You're talking about Ragnarok. The Apocalypse. The End Times." Lugh waved a hand dismissively. "Human nonsense."

"It's real," Loki said seriously. "Believe me. Lucifer's working on his grand plan to escape Hell and all his demons are out in the world trying to make it happen."

Lugh eyed him for a moment. "So what're you doing here then? Shouldn't you be far, far away?"

"I don't know really," Loki admitted. "Figuring out if I'm going to interfere anyway. I like it here, and I don't appreciate the party coming to an end."

"And you don't want me interfering with your plans," Lugh added.

Loki gave him a sheepish grin. "Yeah, all right. You got me."

"Since it's you, I'll back off," Lugh said magnanimously. He produced a silver flask from a pocket and tossed it to Loki. "A drink then, for old times sake."

Loki uncapped the flask and sniffed at it cautiously. "Fionn's whiskey?"  
"What else?" Lugh said, smiling. Loki nodded and took a long draft. It was as sweet and smooth as he remembered. He tossed the flask back to Lugh and closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of the supernatural brew sweep through him. But something felt… different. His eyes popped open to see Lugh recapping the flask once more and wiping his mouth.

"Feels different this time," he said.

Lugh shrugged, unconcerned. "If you say so," he replied. "Well, it's been nice to see you Loki. Be well." Loki nodded at him and Lugh sauntered away. The odd sensation grew stronger, a dull, gnawing feeling in his chest. It almost felt like wistfulness, but what had he to feel wistful about? He huffed out a breath and concentrated for a moment, looking for Sam Winchester and almost gasped when instead of the usual vague sense of direction, there was a strong yearning sensation drawing him north. He frowned and let it lead him to Sam.

* * *

Castiel watched the children skipping by in Halloween costumes. Uriel was sat on the bench, also apparently watching the young humans. His lip curled in contempt. Castiel frowned to himself. Uriel had never had much time for humans, but this naked disgust was something new. He'd seen this look before, on another brother and look at what had happened to him.

"The decision's been made," he told Uriel, hoping against hope that his brother would listen. Uriel laughed.

"By a mud monkey," he said derisively.

Cas felt cold inside. Humans were the greatest of God's creations. He truly believed it, even if he found them difficult to understand and tiresome to interact with. "You shouldn't call them that," he admonished.

Uriel waved a hand as though to smite Castiel's words away. "Ah, it's what they are, savages, just plumbing on two legs," he retorted. "Smelly, dirty, rutting animals."

"You're close to blasphemy," Cas warned. Uriel glared at him and sighed. "There's a reason we were sent to save him. He has potential, he may succeed here." He sat down on the bench next to Uriel, breath huffing out of him. He didn't even need to breathe, not really. But when he didn't the humans noticed and they got scared. "And any rate, it's out of our hands."

"It doesn't have to be," Uriel said quietly. Cas looked at him, troubled by the tone of his voice.

"And what would you suggest?" he asked, dreading the answer.

"That we drag Dean Winchester out of here and then we blow this insignificant pinprick off the map."

"You know our true orders were to follow his lead," Cas snapped. "Are you prepared to disobey?" Uriel just looked at him. They both knew what the answer was.

* * *

Dean tugged Sam's sleeve. "Remember what I said, OK? They're in it together these two. I don't want you going soft at the pretty blonde when she's all tied up." Sam rolled his eyes at him.

" _You_ are telling _me_ to ignore the attractive young woman. That's rich."

Dean elbowed him good-naturedly. "It helps if I keep saying it," he said with a cheeky grin and gently opened the door. They crept down to the cellar where Don, the school teacher and centuries-old witch had tied up his sister as the final sacrifice in the raising of Samhain. Six shots, three for Don and three for Tracey finished the pair off. It was ridiculously easy, almost surreal in it's simplicity. Dean sagged down onto the ground, sitting on the cold tile.

"I can't believe it," he said dazedly. "We actually changed something." Sam gave him a concerned look.

"Are you all right?" he asked. "You're kinda pale."

"All right?" Dean said faintly. "I'm freaking fantastic…" His eyes rolled up in his head and he slumped to the floor. Sam checked his pulse which was slow but steady and shook his head. He moved over to the altar, looking over the various items Don and Tracey had assembled. This was serious magic, he thought. They'd been lucky to get here in time. He'd had his doubts when he'd seen the girl tied up, despite what Dean had said. But the weird way Tracey's corpse withered after death convinced him his brother had been right all along.

He chewed his lip as he thought about what Dean had told him, about coming from the future. It's seemed fantastical, and that really wasn't Dean's style. Their lives were crazy enough, he didn't have to make shit up. But if that was true, if it was his destiny to release Lucifer from his Cage then how was he going to fight it? He still had demon blood in his hipflask, but it was getting lighter by the day, and soon he wouldn't be able to hide his body's withdrawal. Withdrawal. It made him sound like a damn drug addict. _You are an addict,_ a voice in his head that sounded too much like Dean said. _What're you doing now if not jonesing for another hit?_

He ignored it and knelt down next to Dean again. Off in the distance he could hear sirens. Someone had probably reported the sound of gunfire. They needed to leave, now but Dean was still out cold. Ruby had taught him a little trick, for rousing demons and humans who'd passed out. He'd promised he'd leave the psychic stuff alone but he couldn't carry Dean out of here fully unconscious, people would notice. He pushed out his awareness and gently tickled at Dean's mind. His brother twitched and his eyelids fluttered.

"Uh, what happened?" he mumbled.

"I don't know," Sam admitted. "You just kinda blacked out. Come on, let's get you back to the motel where I can check you out properly."


	6. Chapter 6

Dean sat heavily on the bed and began unlacing his boots.

"What the Hell happened to you in there?" Sam asked him, sounding worried. Dean looked up.

"I don't know," he admitted. "I was fine, I felt perfectly OK. Until I didn't." Sam frowned at him.

"It's weird," he said finally. "There's nothing normal about passing out for no good reason." Dean made an impatient gesture but Sam was having none of it. "No, Dean. You've got two options. Go see a doctor or talk to Castiel." Dean raised one eyebrow at him. "He's an angel, and you said they can do time travel. Maybe he knows something."

"I can't exactly magic him up out of thin air," Dean objected. "Cas comes when it suits him, he's not at my beck and call."

"No, I'm not," Cas agreed and the brothers jumped in surprise. "But I do notice when someone says my name. What's going on?"

"After we defeated the witches trying to raise Samhain, Dean passed out," Sam said quickly before Dean could stop him. "He's told you this mad time-travel story right? I thought maybe changing things from last time…" he trailed off, not sure where this line of thought was going. Castiel looked at Dean, his face thoughtful.

"It's possible," he conceded. "Changing the events in the past would produce extreme cognitive dissonance in Dean's brain."

"I am sitting right here," Dean said. Sam and Cas ignored him.

"I didn't know cognitive dissonance could cause actual physical harm," Sam said.

"It can't," Cas agreed. "Not on it's own. But the combination of cognitive dissonance and the extreme cognitive processing required by remembering the same events in two separate ways would be stressful. Add that to the additional strains in Dean's life and I think his brain just uh…"

"Checked out for a while?" Sam suggested. Cas pulled a face but nodded.

"Yes." He moved over to Dean and place his hand on the hunter's cheek. Dean tried to pull away but Cas slid his other hand behind his head and held him in place.

"Dude, haven't we had the personal space conversation before," Dean objected.

"Yes," Cas agreed absently. But he didn't move. He stared deep into Dean's eyes and Sam could see Dean falling almost into a trance.

"Dean," the angel rumbled. "What's the last thing you remember before you blacked out?" Dean smiled vaguely at him, swaying slightly.

"Pretty…" Dean said. Cas looked baffled and Sam had to hide a smile. "Pretty blue eyes."

"Whose eyes?" Cas asked.

Dean's smile got wider. "Yours."

Sam bit the inside of his cheek to suppress a laugh. Cas pursed his lips.

"Try and concentrate, Dean," he said patiently. "Before you lost consciousness, what was the last thing you remember?" Dean's eyes were unfocused and just when Sam thought this was going to go nowhere he blinked and shook himself slightly.

"Son of a bitch!" he exclaimed. Cas frowned at him. "There was someone else there!"

"Who?" Cas asked him. Dean shook his head.

"No idea, all I could see was a vague outline. A shadow. It was pretty dark in that basement."He frowned. "Dammit. What if it was Tenebrae?"

"I wish I knew who or what this Tenebrae is," Cas complained. "I've never heard the name before."

"Probably not really its name," Dean suggested. "All right. Let's hit the road."

* * *

Ruby paused as she surveyed the airport, looking for her contact. Mitchell had said Lilith had ordered him to meet her here, which was odd really. Lilith wasn't exactly generous when she was in a good mood and Ruby didn't think she was happy right now. Eventually she spotted him chatting up a pretty young man in very tight jeans and she huffed out a breath and strode over to him.

"Mitch," she said, sugar sweet. Mitch was wearing a large, heavy-set man with a bushy beard and sun-weathered skin.

"How's my favorite niece!" he exclaimed jovially, ignoring the jaundiced look his new friend bestowed upon Ruby.

"I'm good," she said. "Shall we? I don't want to keep Aunty Lilith waiting."

"Yeah, yeah," Mitch said good-naturedly. He grinned at skinny-jeans guy and then lumbered off towards the parking lot.

"Why did Lilith send you here?" Ruby said as soon as they were out of earshot.

"Something's up," Mitch said ominously. "Something big."

"Bigger than the Apocalypse?" Ruby snarked.

"The Winchesters prevented the raising of Samhain," Mitch told her.

"Yeah? So what?"

"So, it kinda puts a crimp in Lilith's plans is what." Mitch said sanctimoniously. "You're supposed to have the boy on a leash."

"Look, nobody said I would have to tango with angels when I took this gig," Ruby complained. "Not to mention them popping Dean Winchester out of Hell, what the fuck is that all about?"

"I don't know. They took heavy casualties so I assume he's important to them." Mitch said, opening the door of a dirty white pickup truck and gesturing to Ruby.

"I don't like it when I don't know things," Ruby pouted.

"You and me both," Mitch agreed. "But I'll let Lilith tell you the rest. She has a plan."

* * *

Sam was packing the last of his clothes into his duffel bag when Uriel's voice behind him said "Tomorrow." Sam jumped at the unexpected sound and whirled around. "November 2nd, it's an anniversary for you," the angel continued.

"What are you doing here?" Sam said sharply. Uriel seemed unconcerned.

"It's the day Azazel killed your mother, and 22 years later your girlfriend too. It must be difficult to bear, yet you so brazenly use the power he gave you. His profane blood pumping through your veins," the angel thundered. Sam stepped back, but his face was hard.

"Excuse me?"

"You were told not to use your abilities," Uriel snapped.

"It was a tiny thing. Hardly anything. I couldn't carry Dean out of there, but someone had heard the gunshots. The police were already on their way." he defended. Uriel sneered at him.

"You were told not to."

"We're not much use to you in jail!" Sam cried. Uriel made a cutting gesture with one hand.

"You've been warned, twice now," Uriel insisted.

"You know what? My brother was right about you, you are dicks," Sam said, rolling his shoulders. Uriel stepped into his personal space, baring his teeth.

"The only reason you're still alive, Sam Winchester, is because you've been useful. But the moment that ceases to be true, the second you become more trouble than you're worth, one word. One, and I will turn you to dust." He stepped back. "As for your brother, tell him that maybe he should climb off that high horse of his. Ask Dean what he remembers from hell." With that parting shot he vanished.

* * *

Dean sat on a park bench and watched the kids playing. A sound to his left signaled Castiel's arrival, but he didn't turn his head.

"So we pulled out a win," Dean said. "Why does it feel like we lost?"

"I don't know," Cas said heavily. "Everything is… muddled."

"I mean, we did it. We actually did it. We stopped the breaking of a seal and changed things from last time. The path isn't set in stone."

"Perhaps," Cas said cryptically.

"But let me guess, you're pissed anyway, because I didn't want you to nuke the town. Are you here to make some speech about the greater good and the need of the many outweighing the needs of the few?"

"No," the angel said laconically.

"Well, good, cause I'm really not that interested," Dean told him.

"I am not here to judge you, Dean," Cas said. There was a strange note Dean couldn't identify in the angel's voice.

"Then why are you here?" he asked.

"Our orders –" Cas started and Dean held up a hand.

"Yeah, I know, your orders weren't to stop the summoning of Samhain, they were to do whatever I told you to do." Cas tilted his head to one side and Dean's heart skipped a beat.

"Yes. It was a test, to see how you would perform under... battlefield conditions, you might say."

"It was a witch, not the Tet Offensive," Dean snarked. "So what? Did I pass? Fail? I mean, I stopped the raising of Samhain, sure. But you don't seem pleased. You know what? This was a do-over for me, and I made the same call. 'Cause see, I know what's gonna happen when these seals are broken, hell, up until now I even knew something of what's gonna happen tomorrow. And that's huge, and scary and I can barely hold it together. I don't quite know what will happen now I've managed to alter the course of events. But what I do know is, that this, here? These kids, the swings, the trees, all of it is still here because of my brother and me."

"You misunderstand me, Dean, I was praying that you would choose to save the town." Cas admitted.

"Yeah," Dean said tiredly. "You said that last time."

"These people, they're all my father's creations. They're works of art. You stopped Samhain and the seal wasn't broken and we are one step further away from hell on earth, for now. That's not an expression, Dean, it's literal. You of all people should appreciate what that means." Dean threw him a pained glance. Cas returned the look uncertainly. "Can I tell you something if you promise not to tell another soul?" he asked. Dean's heart fluttered again.

"OK," he said breathlessly.

"I'm not a… hammer as you say. I have questions, I have doubts. I don't know what is right and what is wrong anymore, whether you passed or failed here." He looked away from Dean and at the children playing. "But in the coming months you will have more decisions to make. Decisions you've faced before if what you say is true. I'm not sure that makes it easier. I don't envy the weight that's on your shoulders, Dean. I truly don't." He placed his hand on Dean's shoulder and the hunter turned and looked at him.

"Cas, I… I'm sorry," he said. The angel looked surprised.

"Why are you apologizing?" he asked. Dean swallowed.

"These doubts you're having. That's my fault. I… corrupt things. People." Cas dropped his hand.

"No," he said firmly. "If I am having doubts, it is not because you have corrupted me. It is because you have reflected my words and deeds back at me like a mirror… and I do not like what I see. You are… Your soul shines, Dean. I've never seen anything so pure." Dean snorted and rolled his eyes. "You don't have to believe me," the angel told him. "But it's true." Dean looked away and there was a fluttering sound. When he turned back, Cas had gone.

* * *

"Dean!" Sam said urgently, grabbing his brother by the shoulder. "Did you listen to anything I just said?"

"Yeah," Dean lied. "Of course." He shrugged his brother off, rolled off the motel bed and ambled over to the mini-fridge.

"All right," Sam said, folding his arms and glaring at him from the only chair in the room. "What was it?"

"Uh, something about one of Dad's old phones," Dean told him. He pulled two beers from the fridge and offered one to Sam, who accepted with a sigh.

"What specifically?"

"I dunno, a message?" Dean said gamely. Sam's eyes narrowed. "One of his old friends?"

"Roddy Larson, Chief of Police in Henderson, Nevada," Sam said. He twisted off the beer cap and took a swig and Dean followed suit.

Dean wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and then shook his head. "I don't know him."

"You wouldn't," Sam said. "Him and Dad met on a job back when we were just little kids. He was just a deputy then. Dad tracked a mara there and killed it." He pushed their dad's journal towards Dean, tapping on the page.

"A mara?"

"It's where we get the English word, nightmare. They come in the night and suffocate or strangle you," Sam explained. "Anyway, the point is Larson says he's got a wizard throwing fireballs in his local Walmart, said he thought it might be something that needs hunting."

"A wizard? Fireballs? Wow. Look, maybe we can pass this one on to Bobby? Get a hunter in the area to look into it." Dean said, not meeting Sam's eyes. "We're kinda busy with the whole Apocalypse thing."

"Yeah, I know, but… I dunno Dean. I got a weird feeling about this one." Dean gave him a sideways look and Sam shook his head. "Not a psychic thing, just something about it is nagging at me. Like it's familiar."

"It's not familiar to me," Dean said and then his eyes widened. "Wait, that is weird."

"What?"

"I don't remember this from last time."  
"Well, we've already established that your memory isn't exactly stellar," Sam said sourly.

"Funny, " Dean retorted. "No, I'm serious, Sam. This is totally new."

"You swear."

"I swear. I told you, stopping Samhain changed something. Maybe this is one of those things?"

"Or maybe we never checked the messages last time," Sam suggested.

"Well, OK," Dean allowed. "But it's still something different. Something new."  
"You wanna check it out?" Sam said after a moment.

Dean twisted his face in thought. "I think we should."

"And it's close to Vegas," Sam pointed out.

"That never even crossed my mind," Dean said sententiously.

* * *

"Tell me," Simmons said curiously, peering at Crowley as he lounged on the huge leather sofa in the office of a nightclub whose owner was trying to wiggle out of his deal. "What are you going to do with a Supreme Court Justice in your pocket?"

"Do?" Crowley said idly. "What makes you think I'm going to do anything?"

"You never do anything without a reason," Simmons told him. "You didn't have to offer him anything more but a way out of his accomplice to murder problem. But you did. Which means you knew damn well what he wanted deep down and you wanted him on your hook."

"And this is why you are my most trusted aide," Crowley said expansively. Simmons barked out a laugh.

There was a light, diffident knock at the door and Simmons opened it. Michael Tyrone Russell, known to the world as the rapper, Mikey T, came through the door looking uncharacteristically cowed.

"Mr Crowley, sir," he said. "I know what you heard, but I swear it's just a big misunderstanding." Mikey T was a large man, and to see him wringing his hands, head down and sniffling was a beautiful sight, Crowley decided.

"I heard that you were looking to get out of our deal, Mikey," Crowley said. "A little bird told me you contacted Lilith personally, asked for a way out."

"No, no, that's not it at all, I just wondered if maybe I could change some of the terms is all." Mikey looked up and his eyes were bloodshot. "My boy's only three years old. I don't want him growing up without a dad." Simmons knew there were few things that would get to Crowley but that this was one appeal that might work. She didn't know the story, didn't care really, but she'd seen him crack once or twice before in similar circumstances. He always came out on top anyway.

"So, what are you offering?" Crowley said, looking bored.

"What d'ya want?" Mikey countered. Crowley rolled his eyes. "OK, OK. Uh, how about some sweet gossip about Kanye?"

"Are you serious?" Crowley snarled. "Do I look like I give a fuck about Kanye?"

"Yeah, sure, you're right. That was lame. OK, how about this? We work some kinda demon mojo into my next single."

"Demon mojo…" Simmons chortled. "Who do you think you are, Judas Priest?"

"Nah, man. C'mon. Gimme a clue, here."

"You bought a house down in Georgia, didn't you?" Simmons said. Mikey T blinked at her. "An old plantation."

"Yeah, I mean, I was gonna move the family in but after one night, Essence said she didn't wanna live there. She said it was haunted." Mikey T rolled his eyes. "I never saw no ghosts but she was adamant. I was gonna sell it but then the property market crashed and I didn't wanna lose money. You want the house?"

"I want the house," Crowley confirmed.

"OK. I mean, why does a demon need a house?" Mikey T was standing up straighter now he thought he might have a way out of the deal he'd done for fame and fortune nine years ago.

"I don't," Crowley agreed. "But that house is… special."

"You know what, I don't wanna know. The house is yours. My lawyer has the deeds and the keys," Mikey T said. He shook his head and pulled out his wallet. "Here's his card. I'll call him in the morning and tell him to arrange everything."

Crowley took the card and smiled at it. "Lorna Davenport. I knew her father."

"You knew Lamar Davenport?" Mikey T said in astonishment. "Did you… I mean was he…?"

"No, I never did a deal with him," Crowley said. "I did a deal with his wife. Lorna was the result."

"Oh God," Mikey moaned. "You're why Lorna's mom died in that car crash when she was a kid!"

"Car crash?" Crowley said. "No, no. Car crashes lack a certain, je ne sais quoi. She was torn to pieces by Hellhounds."

Mikey T was making strange sobbing sounds. Simmons gestured towards the door and Crowley nodded. Time for a sharp exit. Nobody wanted to watch a grown man cry.

Once outside, Simmons gave her boss a pointed look.

"What?" Crowley said, sounding too pleased with himself to care about her lack of respect.

"Senator Fay. Or rather, soon to be Supreme Court Justice Fay."

"OK, fair enough. Look, there's a few cases coming through the courts that I have a personal interest in," he said smugly, buffing his nails on his jacket.

Simmons stared at him. "Since when did you care about human politics?"

"I'm playing the long game. If we manage to get out the other side of the Apocalypse unscathed, I have a plan that will not only give Hell unprecedented access to human souls, but will maintain you and I and anyone else in my inner circle in glorious, endless sin."

Simmons threw her head back and laughed with delight. "You're going to run for President of the United States?"

"That I am, my dear. That I am."

* * *

Chief Larson was a large bluff man with a friendly open face and a large potbelly that he liked to slap when he laughed.

"Oh, yeah, your daddy was a crazy guy," he laughed. "I guess it was the good kind of crazy. I'm sorry to hear he's passed."

"It was very sudden," Dean said shortly. Sam nudged him with an elbow. "So, this uh, wizard?"

"Nuttiest thing I ever saw," Larson said. "Knock's your daddy's nightmare thing into a cocked hat. Check it out." He turned his computer screen towards them and clicked the mouse to play the video.

The quality was poor, but Sam could make out a figure who looked like a tallish man striding into the store and waving his arms around. And then bright glowing balls oversaturated the camera and began flying out of his hands. People could be seen running past the camera in panic and then the man moved out of shot although additional flares continued to show up on the recording. And then it cut out.

"That was… unusual," Dean offered.

"You're telling me," Larson said. "So, what do you reckon? Is this your sort of thing or do I need to call David Copperfield?"

"Let us investigate for a couple of days," Sam advised. "We'll let you know."

* * *

Lilith had found herself a new meatsuit, a pretty little Asian girl with her long black hair in pigtails and two missing front teeth. It gave her a lisp that in other circumstances was probably adorable.

"Ruby, glad you finally made it," she said waspishly as Ruby entered the kitchen of the house Lilith was occupying.

"I was in Indiana," Ruby defended.

"So? I needed you here." Lilith snapped.

"I got here as soon as I could," Ruby said, folding her arms across her chest. She didn't want to piss Lilith off but she was tired of being yelled at for no reason.

"Well, while you were lazing around, things have been happening. I've been talking to his majesty about our plans."

"Is there a seal here?" Ruby wondered.

"Yes," Lilith said, giving her a look. "Of course. But that's not all. There's an angel here too and we're here to find out what he's up to."

"An angel? Oh great."

"His name is Uriel," Lilith said, ignoring her. "I want to know what he's doing here."

"All right," Ruby agreed sullenly. Tracking angels. What could possibly go wrong?

* * *

Sam raked a hand through his hair as he watched Chief Larson's CCTV recording on his laptop again. He looked up at Dean, who was reading something in their dad's journal.

"So, what do we think?" he asked.

Dean leaned back against the headboard of the bed and made a face. "Witchcraft."

Sam nodded to himself. "Yeah, I guess that would make sense."

"Ugh," Dean said. He waved the journal at Sam. "Did you read this bit about Dad and the nightmare?"

"I only skimmed it," Sam admitted. "I was just looking to see if Chief Larson was on the level."

"Well, it's interesting," Dean continued. "Not the case, although we've never seen one of these monsters, it sounds pretty straightforward. But after Dad killed the mara, he met another supernatural creature that he just calls the Shadow."

Sam frowned at him. "Yeah, I saw that. It was kinda odd."

"More than kinda. Dad doesn't kill it, doesn't even say what it was. Only that it approached him while he was on the hunt. Gave him tips on how to kill the mara."

"So?"

"So, why did he listen to it? Why didn't he even try and gank it?" Dean asked. "I wonder if it's still here."

"We can look," Sam said. "As long as we don't get sidetracked looking for Fireball Guy." His phone buzzed and he answered it. "Chief Larson?"

Dean watched his brother as he nodded, listening to something the Chief was saying when something caught his eye. He walked up to the window and across the parking lot, under a large tree stood a dark figure. He grabbed his gun and yanked the door open, dashing across the lot and to the spot where he'd seen the watcher. But the figure was gone. He turned to see Sam standing bemused in the door of the motel room.

"What is it?" Sam called to him.

"Nothing," Dean said sourly. "Just shadows."

* * *

As it turned out, Ruby didn't have to go looking for Uriel. The angel found her. She was chatting with the owner of a gas station where Lilith's informants had last spotted Uriel and he strolled up, grabbed her by the arm and dragged her over to her car.

"Demon," he rumbled. "Looking for me, were you? Not too smart."

Ruby shivered, this was bad. She flashed him a smile and thought desperately.

"Don't worry," Uriel said. "I'm not going to kill you. I'm not even going to send you back to the Pit, as tempting as that may be."

"Uh, OK?" Ruby stuttered.

"I want you to take a message to Lilith." Ruby relaxed, this was going to be OK. Who knew why an angel wanted to talk to a high-ranking demon like Lilith but if it meant she was useful to him, she'd get out of this unscathed. She nodded to indicate her agreement. "Good. I'm glad you aren't going to be… difficult. Tell Lilith to leave this place. Leave this seal untouched."

"I'll tell her," Ruby agreed. "But I doubt she'll listen."

"Then you'll have to be very persuasive," Uriel said firmly.

Ruby shook her head at him. "I'm going to need a reason. Because an angel said so isn't going to fly."

"Fair point," Uriel conceded. "I do have a reason. The prophecy says that this seal involves children murdering their parents. If Lilith breaks that seal, certain key players that we think are essential could be taken off the chessboard too early."

"So?" Ruby challenged. "What makes life difficult for you really isn't our problem."

"You don't understand," Uriel said, gritting his teeth. "Lilith needs a very specific meatsuit for her confrontation with Sam Winchester. I don't think you're going to be able to convince him to kill a little girl, even with Lilith inside. He's foul and corrupt, but everything we know about him suggests he'll balk at that."

"OK," Ruby said, nodding. "Let's say I buy that for now. Lilith can just find an adult. No biggie."

"Haven't you noticed how quickly Lilith changes meatsuits?" Uriel said irritably. "She's powerful and she burns through them fast. But there are a few humans who could hold her for longer. One of them lives here, and she has a 7 year old daughter. Lilith needs her body for the things she needs to do later. If she gets killed, well, goodbye plan."

"That's crap," Ruby said, although truthfully she wasn't sure. "And even if it was, why do you care? Your lot are trying to stop the Apocalypse, aren't you?"

"Some of us believe that the natural order of things should be allowed to proceed," Uriel said cryptically. "The Apocalypse will herald a new era, paradise right here on earth. And an end to…" he gestured with one hand, "...this."

Ruby squirmed uncomfortably. This was by far the weirdest conversation she'd had in some time, and that included all the chats she'd had with Crowley. Something felt off here, but for now it was probably wisest to play nice.

"All right," she said. "I'll talk to Lilith. But I'm not promising anything."

With the sound of beating wings, Uriel was gone. She spat on the ground. Ugh, Lilith was going to be pissed.


	7. Chapter 7

The Walmart store had been badly damaged by the fire, and several areas were only being held up by scaffolding. Sam and Dean walked over to the arson investigator who was frowning over a large burned lump in her hands.

"Ms Dohman?" Sam said. She looked up and gave him a wary smile, placing the lump on the folding table in front of her. He flashed an FBI badge at her and her smile dropped.

"Who called in the feds?" she asked tightly.

Dean gave her a broad, reassuring smile. "We got a hit on our database because it looked like a case of ours over in uh, Kansas." Sam bit his lip.

"Oh really," Dohman said. "Well, did your Kansas fire have a 'wizard' too?" She made airquotes with her fingers, incredulity barely masked on her face.

"It's still an open investigation," Sam said hurriedly, anxious at the level of hostility that was growing. "We've seen the video from this incident of course but what can you tell us?"

Dohman rolled her eyes. "As far as I can tell, we're pretty sure there was some kind of accelerant, although we haven't identified it yet. The lab's still working on the samples we sent."

"And that's because of the burn pattern, right?" Sam prompted.

She nodded and handed two hard hats to them. "Come and see." She strode off across the burned out store towards where the front entrance had been and the Winchesters followed her. "Here. And here. There are other spots too, all over the store. See how intense the burning is? No way an accidental fire produces hotspots like this."

"How can you tell?" Dean asked.

"Look, let's say I'm investigating an electrical fire. You'd have one point of ignition, maybe two. Very unusual to have more than that. And the initial fire often doesn't burn all that vigorously or that hot. Depends what catches fire first of course, but unless you're unlucky enough to have an electrical short next to a pile of gasoline-soaked newspaper or something, it's not necessarily gonna become an inferno right away." She knelt down and pointed a flashlight at a section of the wall. "But look at this, this fire managed to damage this reinforced concrete because the heat was so intense that the steel rebar actually started to melt."

"Wow," Sam commented, inspecting the area she was pointing at. "So, I know you said you're still waiting for the chemical analysis, but you're an experienced professional, you must have a theory."

"Damned if I know," Dohman said. "Not gasoline or anything like that. This fire's way too intense. Honestly, I've been doing this job for fifteen years and I've never seen a burn pattern like this before." She got to her feet and tucked the flashlight back in her pocket. "Your Kansas fire look like this?"

Dean exchanged a look with Sam. "Not exactly," he said and Dohman nodded sagely.

"Probably not the same perp then."

"We'll leave you to it," Sam said and turned, pulling Dean with him as he walked away. "What do you think?"

"I dunno," Dean admitted, scratching at his stubble. "It's not really screaming 'monster' at me right now. But you gotta admit, that video was weird."

"Yeah," Sam said reflectively. "I'm gonna call Bobby, see if he has anything for us. You coming?"

"Nah," Dean said, thrusting his chin at the bar across the road. "I'm gonna go see if anyone saw anything."

Sam watched him go and then pulled out his phone and dialed Ruby. He cursed when it went to voicemail. "Hey Ruby, gimme a call when you get this." He hung up and called Bobby.

"Yeah," the old man answered gruffly.

"Uh, hey, Bobby," Sam said.

"Sam," Bobby said, his voice warming. "What's up?"

"We've got a weird case here in Nevada. Some local pyromaniac lit up a Walmart, on camera, using fireballs."

"Fireballs? Like Merlin on crack fireballs?"

"That's what it looks like. I guess it could be a trick but something feels off." Sam explained. "And it's nagging at me, like something I should remember."

"Ah." Bobby went silent and a bad feeling began to swirl in Sam's stomach.

"You know what it is, don't you?"

"Efreet." Bobby said. "Your Dad and I hunted one, years ago. Son-of-a-bitch got away, unfortunately."

"Was it anywhere near Vegas?" Sam asked, holding his breath.

"Depends on your definition of close," Bobby replied. "Flagstaff, Arizona."

"That's not that far away," Sam said. "A few hours drive maybe."

"Efreet are dangerous, boy. And hard to kill. I've got a spell here somewhere, but the ingredients aren't exactly household items."

"Can you send it anyway?" Sam asked and the old man grunted in assent. "Thanks, Bobby."

"Yeah, yeah," Bobby said. "Look, I gotta go, Rufus is calling on another line."

"Sure," Sam said. "I'll talk to you later."

* * *

The bar was even seedier than it had looked from the outside. Dean surveyed the sparse clientele and then settled at the bar. A sullen young man with dirty red hair and a scruffy beard glared at him.

"What do you want?"

"Bourbon," Dean said shortly. The bartender poured the drink and then slouched off. "Friendly place," he said to nobody in particular.

"Ah, don't mind Jimmy," an older man with thinning gray hair and a nasty scar on his left cheek laughed. "His girlfriend dumped him and he lost his other job last night."

"Happens to the best of us," Dean said. "But two hits in one day would bring anyone down. Did his girlfriend cause him to get canned?"

"Nah," the old guy said. "Did you see the burned out Walmart across the street? He worked there sometimes."

"Yeah, I saw it," Dean told him. "Looked bad."

"It was," his new friend agreed. "I'm Denny, by the way."

"Dean," he reached out and shook the man's hand. "Were you here, when the fire started?"

"Oh, yeah. It was crazy. Just after the third quarter of the Bears game, the power goes out. Alicia, she owns this place, she checks the breakers but none of them have tripped. So we went outside and whoosh! You could feel the heat even from here. Knocked out the power for six blocks in every direction. Fire trucks started arriving soon after that. Man, it was intense."

"I guess it was a short then, that caused the fire?" Dean prompted.

Denny shook his head. "Not the way I heard it. Alicia's cousin works at the store. She said some crazy guy came in, threw gasoline around and set the place alight. I tell ya, I dunno what the world's coming to these days."

"Gasoline, huh? You hear about these crazy arsonists on TV," Dean said. "Did they catch the guy?"

"Not to my knowledge. Police sent a picture from one of them CCTV cameras but it's kinda blurry. Could be anyone." Denny slurped down the last of his beer and looked hopefully at Dean, who signalled to Jimmy the bartender.

"Thanks, boy," Denny said gratefully when Jimmy slammed a pint in front of him.

"Sounds like you had a crazy night," Dean said. "Makes a man thirsty."

Denny laughed, a loud, joyous sound. "That it does!"

"They sent a photofit," Jimmy said suddenly. "I haven't put them up yet."

"Oh, yeah?" Denny said. "Lemme see." Jimmy pulled out a flyer and passed it across the bar. The photofit showed a middle-aged man with dark hair and a neat beard. "Hey, I know this guy."

"Who is it?" Dean asked.

"His name's Al, uh Al Walker. Works at the Quicklube on Second. Jimmy, gimme the phone. I gotta call this in."

Dean exchanged a puzzled look with Jimmy, who rolled his eyes. "Denny's a retired policeman. Him and Chief Larson go way back."

* * *

Sam headed back to the motel and opened his laptop. Sure enough, Bobby had emailed the spell to him. He looked at the list in consternation. Iron filings and holy water would be easy enough but where the Hell was he going to get diamond dust or a brass bottle? His phone buzzed and he looked at the caller ID. Ruby!

"Hey," he answered. "I've been trying to get a hold of you."

"I know, Sam," Ruby said. "I've been busy. I tracked Lilith to Texas but now I've lost her again."

"Oh," Sam said. "Hey, you know where I can get diamond dust? And a brass bottle."

"No," Ruby said indignantly. "What do you want that crap for?"

"Dean and I are chasing an efreet," Sam explained. There was silence at the end of the phone. "Ruby?"

"I'm still here."

"Is everything OK?"

"Yeah. No, I… Sam, leave the efreet alone. Please. They're… they're really dangerous and really hard to kill." Ruby sounded almost desperate, Sam thought. "Please, Sam."

"You know I can't do that," he sighed. "Sooner or later someone's gonna get killed."

"Yeah," Ruby agreed. "You. Seriously, Sam, efreet are bad news. Everyone knows that." She fell silent again. "You're not listening."

"I am listening," Sam denied. "I just can't leave this thing to go around setting fire to anything it chooses."

"Yes, you can," Ruby insisted. "Look, I'll meet you. We can talk. Where are you?"

"Nevada," Sam told her. "Not far from Vegas."

"Fine," she said. "Stay put. I'm on my way."

She hung up and Sam tossed the phone on the table in frustration. Why wouldn't she listen to him for once? The motel room door opened and Dean lumbered in.

"Any luck?" Sam asked.

"Maybe," Dean said. He handed the flyer to Sam. "This is a photofit from one of the witnesses. Guy in the bar reckoned it's this dude who works at the Quicklube on Second Ave."

"You wanna check it out?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," Dean said. "Chief Larson's already picked him up. He's down at the station, waiting for us."

* * *

Larson was waiting for them outside when Sam pulled the Impala into the lot.

"Chief?"

"Glad to see you boys again. I dunno, Al Walker's lived in this town his whole life. I think we'd know if he was some kinda monster." Larson said. He scuffed at the ground with his boot. "All right, let's go talk to him."

Larson loped into the station and headed down to the interview room where Walker was sitting, handcuffed to the table.

"C'mon, Roddy," Walker said when they entered the room. "Can't you at least tell me what this is about?"

"Arson," Larson said heavily. "At the Walmart."

"I don't know nothing about that," Walker said defensively. "I don't even shop there."

Larson tossed the photofit and the CCTV still onto the table. "See, here's the problem, Al. This still is blurry, I'll give you that. But that photofit came from one of the witnesses. You gotta admit it looks like you."

"Maybe," Walker allowed. He seemed to notice the Winchesters for the first time. "Who're these guys?"

"Feds," Larson snapped. "So, things could get real bad for you Al. Unless you talk to me, now."

"Look, I don't know nothing about a fire. I mean, I heard about it, sure. On TV, like everyone else." Walker was shaking and Sam reluctantly concluded he was telling the truth. He caught Larson's eye and nodded towards the door.

"All right, Al. Sit tight." Larson opened the door and they all left the room.

"It's not him," Dean said.

"I don't think so," Sam agreed.

"Well, we're back at square one," Larson said, exasperated. "What do we do now?"

"Who gave the statement that produced this photofit?" Sam asked him and Larson's face paled.

"Lucy Anders. She works at the store. You think she set Al up? Why?"

"Well, without knowing Miss Anders…" Sam began and Larson closed his eyes.

"She's Alicia Williams' cousin. Alicia runs the bar across the street. Lucy came to town about two months ago and I guess she and Al had a bit of a run-in. She crashed her car into a tree and claimed he screwed up when working on her car. Said the brakes failed. But there was nothing wrong with the brakes, I checked 'em out myself. They've been feuding ever since."

Sam was watching the monitor which showed the camera feed from the interview room. Al was moving his hands in a strange way that caught his attention. Suddenly his cuffs sprang open and Sam lunged for the door. But they were too late, Walker was free and had already managed to open the window and climb through it into the alley.

"Shit! Al! Don't do this, Al!" Larson yelled through the window. But Walker was gone.

"I don't get it," Dean said morosely. "Are we chasing a monster or a small town argument?" He threw the car into drive and backed out of the police station lot with a squeal of protest from the tires. Larson's car fishtailed as he sped down the street, the Impala in hot pursuit.

"Hmm," Sam said distractedly, flipping through some papers in his lap.

"What've you got there?"

"Walker's file," Sam explained. "He's been picked up a couple times. DUI, possession of marijuana. Nothing major. But listen to this, he was in the military. He served in the first Gulf war, in Iraq."

"So?"

"Well, efreet are from the Middle East. Maybe he learned something about them when he was out there. And when this Lucy Anders comes to town, he recognizes her for what she is. Maybe he even tries to take her out. That could explain something."  
"Maybe," Dean mused. "But would a car wreck kill an efreet?"

"I doubt it. Bobby said they were real hard to kill."

"So, what do we do?"

"Figure out where to get the ingredients for this spell." Sam said. The car suddenly swerved as Dean's eyes met Cas's in the back seat.

"Dammit, Cas, must you just pop up like that?" Dean snapped.

"I was in the area," the angel said, as if that were an explanation.

"We're chasing an efreet," Sam said. Cas looked at him and Sam's stomach flipped over. The look on the angel's face was not friendly.

"I'm aware," Cas said. "Dean, we need to talk."

"This isn't a good time," Dean said, regret bleeding through his tone.

"Very well," Cas said. "I'll come back later. I'll just leave these here." Sam turned his head but the angel had already left. On the back seat was a brass bottle and a Ziplock bag containing a whitish powder.

"Well, well," Dean said. "Ain't that handy?"

When Larson swung his car into a trailer park, Sam's heart began to sink. This was not a good place for a confrontation with a fiery fiend. Sure enough, Walker was already here, a rifle in his hands and his eyes were wild.

"Al," Larson said calmly, opening the door of his cruiser. "Al, just put the gun down. Let's talk. Nobody needs to get shot today."

"You don't understand," Al pleaded, tears running down his face. "This is my fault. My problem. And I need to fix it." Sam and Dean looked at each other and carefully exited the Impala, keeping their eyes on Walker.

"OK," Larson said. He climbed out of the car and looked squarely at Walker. "Tell me about it. What happened?"

"She happened!" Walker wailed. "My whole unit was killed, because of her. But it was my fault. I released her."

"Released me? I suppose you did," a new voice said. Sam looked over to the trailer Walker had been heading for to see a young woman with long black hair in a thick braid and coffee colored skin. She stood on the steps with her hands on her hips. "Chief Larson, I've put up with harassment from Mr Walker for months now, and the Henderson PD have done nothing. Now he's here to kill me, and still you stand by."

"Now, that ain't fair," Larson defended. "You never made a formal complaint."

"She's a monster!" Walker howled. "We have to kill it!"

"Maybe she is a monster," Larson allowed. "But if she is, do you really think a rifle's gonna do anything but piss her off."

Walker's face turned crafty. "These ain't regular bullets," he said. "They're made of brass, filled with iron filings and diamond powder and holy water." Sam sucked in a breath. He had no idea if it would work this way, Bobby had been quite clear in his email that it had to be a bottle. But Walker had gotten his information from somewhere, maybe a hunter?

"I don't know if that'll work," Sam said cautiously and Walker swung around to face him.  
"You! You're a hunter, can't you see what she is!" Sam saw little good in denying it.

"Yeah, we're hunters," Dean said sternly. "And I dunno where you got your half-assed info, but it's wrong. You shoot her with that thing, we're not gonna be able to stop her lighting you up like a candle."

"Fuck you!" Walker snarled and turned his back on them. He cocked the rifle and aimed it at Lucy.

"Chief Larson," Lucy said. "He's threatening my life. Are you just going to stand there?"

Larson shook himself, like he was in a trance and began to advance on Walker. "Now, Al, let's just think this through. Give me the gun." He reached out for it and Walker jerked the weapon, his finger snagging on the trigger. It was enough, the rifle fired and the bullet struck the side of the trailer. Larson snatched the rifle out of Walker's hands and then staggered backwards, blood streaming from his side. Sam swore and dashed over to him, just too late to stop him crumpling to the ground.

Dean felt like everything was happening in slow motion. Sam was yelling something but he couldn't understand what he was saying. Walker grabbed the rifle from the ground and swung it upwards, firing it at Lucy and she dropped like a stone. But it seemed that she wasn't badly hurt, she snarled and made an overhand throwing motion. Walker burst into flames and Dean had to step back away from the intense heat. He swore and backed away towards Baby, and Lucy's eyes fixed on him.

"Oh, no," she said. "No way." She raised her hand again and shrieked as Cas's arms wrapped around her. Fire blossomed out in all directions and the trailer behind them exploded, sending shrapnel in all directions.

"Now, Dean!" the angel barked.

Dean didn't need telling twice. He grabbed the bottle and the diamond dust from the backseat, and added the iron filings and the holy water to the bottle. Finally he poured in the diamond dust, reciting the chant from Bobby's email. Lucy struggled in Cas's arms for a moment and then Dean slammed the bottle to the ground. A swirling wind came from nowhere, blowing dust and debris around until it was hard to see. And then with a horrid sucking sound it all flowed into the bottle and Dean shoved the cork into the mouth. He collapsed onto the ground.

"Dean?" Sam yelled. "Dean! Larson's hurt, bad!" Dean groaned but Cas was already striding over to Larson's side.

"Can you heal him?" Sam asked.

Cas gave him an inscrutable look and then shook his head. "He's already gone."

* * *

Deputy Morgan was pale as he took their statements. It wasn't the most cleverly constructed tale, given that he'd showed up just minutes after everything had gone down. But it was a coherent story.

"So when Walker escaped from jail, you're saying he headed over to the trailer park to find Lucy Anders and confront her. You two and Chief Larson followed him and found him outside the trailer where he'd poured gasoline and set it on fire."

"Yeah," Sam said. "And it just exploded, it was like a bomb going off. If Lucy was inside, she'd have been killed instantly."

"OK," Morgan said. "But you're saying Walker had gotten gasoline on his clothes too and they caught light."

"I don't know for sure," Sam said. "But why else would his clothes catch light like that?"

"And Chief Larson tried to save him?"  
"Yeah," Sam said heavily. "But I guess the heat caused the rifle to go off somehow and it was just an unlucky thing that it hit Larson."

"I still don't understand how Chief Larson came to die," Morgan said suspiciously. "He was hit in the side, it shouldn't have hit any major organs."

"I don't know," Sam said tiredly. "I'm not a doctor. But he was bleeding a lot and I couldn't stop it."

"All right, Morgan," another police officer said. "That's enough. These two agents didn't kill Roddy. It's just a tragic situation." She gave the Winchesters a hard look. "But if I were you, I'd consider hitting the road. Chief Larson was well liked in this town and his death is gonna hit them hard." She walked over and shook their hands and then turned back to Deputy Morgan, dismissing them both.

Back in the Impala, Dean handed a slip of paper to Sam.

"What's this?" Sam asked.

"Note the officer gave me when she shook my hand." Dean explained.

Sam's raised an eyebrow at his brother. "Slick. Sure it's not just her number?"

"Read it."

Sam unfolded the note and read it aloud. "'Sam and Dean. Get out of town. Now. Alastair is coming.' Who's Alastair?"

"Bad news," Dean said shortly.

* * *

Dean threw back his third shot and let out a sigh.

"It just doesn't make any sense, Dean," Sam was saying. "I mean, why would Uriel tell me you remembered Hell if you didn't?" Fucking Uriel. He'd forgotten about this conversation. It wasn't any more fun the second time around.

"Maybe because he's a dick. Might have something to do with it," Dean told his brother. He wondered vaguely why he was fighting this.

"Maybe, but he's still an angel," Sam countered.

"Yeah, an angel who was ready to level an entire town," Dean pointed out. "Look, I-" To his irritation the overly cheerful waiter had bounced back to their table.

"Radical," the annoying fuck twittered. "What else can I get you guys?" Dean glared at him.

Sam shot his brother a look. "Uh, I think we're good," he told the waiter.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Sam said firmly.

"You want to try a couple of fryer bombs? Or a chipotle chili changa?" the waiter asked hopefully.

"No, no, we're - we're still good," Dean snarled.

The waiter backed off. "Okay, awesome," he said and fled.

Dean gave a heavy sigh. "We're never coming to TGI Fridays again." Sam gave a soft laugh and then nodded in agreement.

Dean inhaled and gathered himself. "You were right," he admitted. Sam looked confused.

"About what?"

"I lied to you. I do remember everything that happened to me in the Pit. Everything," Dean confessed. Sam blinked in surprise.

"So tell me about it," he said.

"No. Not here. Not right now. But I will. I promise." Sam cast him a skeptical look, which he could hardly blame his brother for. Something bounced in his peripheral vision.

"Outstanding!" the ludicrously cheery waiter declared. "Dessert time? Huh? Am I right?"

"Dude," Dean said warningly. Unfortunately, the man was undaunted.

"Listen, bros. You have got to try our ice cream extreme. It's extreme."

Sam noticed the murderous look in Dean's eye."Uh, no extremities, please. Just the -"

"Check? All right, awesome." The man fluttered off and Sam gave a sigh of relief.

"All right, so, where do we go from here?" Dean asked. He racked his brain trying to remember what the next case should be.

"I'm not sure. Uh, looks like it's been pretty quiet lately. No signs of demon activity, no omens or portents I can see," Sam said.

"I wish I could say that's good news for once," Dean said. "But I know it isn't."

"Uh, OK," Sam said uncertainly. "Yeah, just the typical smattering of crank UFO sightings and one possible vengeful spirit. Here, check this out. Uh... Up in Concrete, Washington, eyewitness reports of a ghost that's been haunting the showers of a women's health facility." Dean inhaled as he was drinking and began choking on his beer. Sam, the swine, ignored him. "The victim claims that the ghost threw her down a flight of stairs. I can see you're very interested."

"I remember this case," Dean grinned. "Women, showers. We got to save these people." Sam rolled his eyes.


	8. Chapter 8

Crowley stared at the young demon in front of him, biding his time. After several minutes of heavy silence, the blond raised his eyes hopefully to his liege lord.

"Uh, sir?"

"So you're telling me there's a human out there, who can listen in to angel conversations?"

"Uh, yes sir?" The demon's meatsuit, who looked like a college frat boy, shifted uncomfortably.

"And she's been in this mental hospital for months, but I'm only finding out about it now?" Crowley said softly.

Frat boy gulped. "Yes, sir. I uh, so many humans have religious mania and delusions, she really didn't raise any red flags. Until she escaped and we heard that the angels were after her."

"So who's in charge of collecting her?" Crowley asked.

"Alastair, sir."

Crowley frowned as he considered the situation. "Is Lilith fully apprised of the situation?"

"I don't believe so, sir."

"Make sure the information falls into her hands. Try dropping a few hints in Ruby's ear. That ought to do the trick."

* * *

Dean watched as Sam played the drunken pool player, interjecting when he needed to as the concerned older brother. Damn, Sam was good at this. Better than him even. He frowned to himself, that wasn't necessarily a good thing. But he remembered that Ruby was due to show up any moment and he was determined to head her off this time. So he was scanning the bar, keeping a careful eye out. He heard Sam break and his opponent gasp and at that same moment, spotted Ruby making her way through the crowd. He made a beeline for her and stopped her before she stepped into Sam's eyeline.

"Ruby," he said gruffly. She eyed him warily.

"Hi, Dean," she said sweetly. He ignored her. "I've got something to tell you both."

"You can tell me," Dean told her. "I'll tell Sam."

"Running interference?" Ruby commented with a roll of her eyes. "Cute."

Dean folded his arms. "Spill it." He thought for a moment she might refuse, but then she gave a very put-upon sigh and relented.

Ruby had seriously considered refusing to tell Dean Winchester the disturbing news that was all over the demon grapevine right now. It would serve the self-righteous bastard right. But she needed to start reeling Sam back in. They were running out of time and the longer she played all the sides, the more dangerous it was for her.

"Girl named Anna Milton escaped from a locked ward yesterday. The demons seem pretty keen on finding her. Apparently, some real heavy hitters turned out for the Easter-egg hunt," she told Dean. There was an odd look on his face, she thought. Almost like he'd been expecting this news. "I'm thinking that she's important, 'cause the order is to capture her alive. I just figured that whatever the deal is, you might want to find this girl before the demons do."

"Yeah, OK," Dean said. She stared at him in shock. She had definitely expected more resistance than this.

"OK," she said slowly. She dug a sticky note out of her pocket and handed it to him. "This is the hospital where she escaped from. You probably want to start there."

Dean snatched the paper from her hand. "All right. We'll look into it. Thanks for stopping by. Don't feel you have to stay." She snarled at him.

"I'd like to say hi to Sam." Dean gave her an implacable look and she backed off. "Fine." She left the bar without another word.

Outside, she pulled out her cell and the amulet and called Lilith. A woman smoking a cigarette by the door gave her a curious look and she moved further away.

"Ruby. Tell me you have something to report," Lilith said.

"Yes," Ruby told her. She explained how she had passed on the information about Anna Milton to the Winchesters.

"You're sure they'll go after her," Lilith asked skeptically. "You were supposed to pass this on directly to Sam."

"Look, Dean hates me already," Ruby defended. "There was no value in antagonizing him further."

"Very well," Lilith said, her voice dripping with disdain. "Although why we can't just kill Dean Winchester, I do not understand."

"Trust me, I'm as frustrated as you are," Ruby assured her mistress. "More, because I actually have to talk to him."

"Was there anything else?"

"You promised me the Colt," Ruby reminded her. There was a derisive sound.

"I did. I gave it to Merlion, he'll find you."

"Merlion? He hates my guts! He's as likely to shoot me with it as give it to me."

"There aren't any bullets left," Lilith said idly. "I doubt Merlion's smart enough to figure out how to make more." And then the sense of her presence was gone. Ruby cursed.

* * *

"Can I get a copy of the missing persons report? Great. Okay. Thanks," Sam was saying on the phone as Dean drove. "Well, Anna Milton's definitely real."

"Yeah, I know." Dean said heavily. "But it's a three-day drive."

"We've driven further for less, Dean. You got something to say, say it."

"Oh, I'm saying it - this sucks." Dean snarled.

"You're not pissed we're going after the girl. You're pissed Ruby threw us the tip," Sam accused.

"No," Dean said shortly.

"Then what is it?" Sam snapped back, exasperated.

"I thought we were making progress," Dean said. "Changing things. But this is back to the script."

"Didn't Cas say changing history was hard?" Sam asked, more gently.

"Yeah," Dean said. "And you're right. I'm not pleased that Ruby's back in the picture."

Sam rolled his eyes so hard he was surprised it didn't make a sound. "I told you, Dean, she helped me go after Lilith."

"She's bad news, Sam. I wish you would believe me."

"How can I believe you when you won't tell me anything?" Sam demanded. "Like Uriel said, you remember Hell. You admitted it. But despite saying you'd tell me about it, you've said nothing."

"I know," Dean agreed. "It's not that easy."

* * *

"Who the Hell were those guys?" Nurse Winters asked.

"Law enforcement," Dr Collins winced. "They're chasing Anna Milton."

"Law enforcement," Winters said sarcastically. "With that hair?"

"I don't know," Collins defended. "Sometimes federal agencies have looser rules than the local PD."

"And that's another thing," Winters continued. "Since when do feds get involved with one missing schizo off her meds?"

Collins leveled a look at her. "Miss Milton is a sick woman, let's not resort to name-calling."

"Whatever," Winters said. Collins frowned at her, Winters wasn't a warm and cuddly person at the best of times, but she wasn't normally so unpleasant. "Give me her file back, I need to put it away."

"I gave it to the agents," Collins told her and for a moment he could have sworn her face distorted in a snarl. But it was gone as soon as it had appeared and he wondered if he was imagining things. It had been a long day. He turned away and was surprised by a heavy thump on the floor behind him. He turned back to see Winters crumpled into a pile on the floor in a dead faint.

"Nurse! I need some help here!"

* * *

Dean turned off the engine and turned to Sam, urgency lining his face.

"Now, listen to me or this is gonna turn into another shitshow. Anna's here and Alastair's on his way."  
"I wish you'd tell me who Alastair is," Sam grumbled.

"Later," Dean promised. "Right now we've gotta get in and out and get Anna to safety."

"OK, so what's the plan?"

"I told you, in and out, fast."

"Some plan," Sam groused.

"Yeah, yeah. Come on." Dean climbed out of the car and approached the church cautiously, his gun drawn.

"Dean!" Sam said, pointing to a statue of the Virgin Mary near the door. Blood ran in rivulets from her eyes.

"Fuck," Dean said. "Alastair's already here."

"Indeed I am. Hello, Dean," Alastair lisped and Dean wanted to throw up. He'd forgotten how viscerally Alastair's voice grated at his nerves. He stalked towards Dean, his eyes bright with anticipation. "I wasn't sure you'd recognize me when I was wearing this pediatrician. But it seems we were so close in Hell, you'd recognize me anywhere."

"Yeah, I recognize your stink all right," Dean said bravely. He looked around for Sam, but couldn't see him. A movement caught his eye behind Alastair, and he saw Ruby sneaking past. He focused back on the demon in front of him.

"I really thought you'd be more… scared," Alastair said, sounding disappointed. "But then, you've got an angel in your pocket, so I hear."

"Maybe I have," Dean replied.

"Mmm, or maybe that angel is even closer than that. Demons _do_ love to gossip and you would not believe the things I hear. It's positively delicious."

"Yeah, yeah," Dean said. Sam had reappeared, with Ruby and Anna. Alastair whirled around.

"Ah, ah, ah!" he sang out, throwing Ruby against one wall and pinning Anna to the floor.

"Sam, do it! Yank him out!" Ruby yelled. Sam flung out one hand and scrunched up his face in concentration but it seemed his mojo was not going to perform today.

"That tickles. You don't have the juice to take me on, Sam." Alastair said, thrusting Sam back against a closet door.

Dean lunged forward with Ruby's knife, but Alastair caught his arm and they both tumbled to the ground. Dean desperately tried to wrest his arm free but Alastair was too strong. His grip broke and the knife skittered away across the stone floor. Alastair's face was close as he breathed on Dean's face.

"Now, isn't this better?" Alastair asked. Dean saw a flash of Sam's hand and then felt Alastair's body stiffen as Sam plunged Ruby's knife into his back. Dean scrambled out from under the demon and he and Sam ran for the door.

"You're gonna have to try harder than that!" Alastair cried out as he contorted, trying to reach the knife in his back. Sam and Dean kept running.

* * *

"Yeah, they're here. Room 406," the motel clerk said in a bored tone.

"Good to know security is so tight in this establishment," the African-American policeman said snarkily. The other one, with the bright blue eyes and shock of dark hair made a strained face.

"Whatever," the clerk said. "I ain't gettin' involved. This is a respectable establishment."

"Indeed," the first policeman said. "That's why you charge by the hour."

"Hey," the clerk said. "I just work here. No need to be insulting." There was a flapping sound and he blinked. The two police officers had vanished.

"What was all that about?" he asked the maid smoking a cigarette and leaning against the wall. She ignored him, tossing aside her cigarette onto the floor and left the room.

"Hey! You can't do that!" he yelled, but she had gone. Dammit.

* * *

There was a tap at the door.

"Housekeeping."

Dean frowned and then his face cleared. "Let her in, Sam. It's Ruby."

"What?"

"It's Ruby, open the door."

Sam gave him a strange look and opened the door to reveal a maid. "Uh, hi?"

"Go now. Go through the bathroom window, don't stop, don't take your car, don't pass go. The angels are here."

"Ruby?" Sam said stupidly.

"Okay, yes, so I'm possessing this maid for a hot minute. Sue me." She shoved Sam towards the bathroom.

"What about -" Sam protested. Ruby cut him off.

"Coma girl? Slowly rotting on the floor back at the cabin with Anna, so I've got to hurry back. See you when you get there. Go!"

Dean had already unlatched the bathroom window and was halfway out when he stopped. "Wait, angels?"

"Later," Sam said urgently. "Come on, Dean. We'll figure it out later."

The cabin was dimly lit and for a moment Dean thought that Ruby had double-crossed them and taken Anna elsewhere when she appeared from behind a door.

"Glad you could make it," she greeted them.

"Yeah, thanks." Sam said. His voice was cold and Dean blinked. Was Sam pissed at Ruby now? He wasn't exactly delighted with her himself, but why was Sam angry? But his brother had already moved over to Anna, talking to her and making sure she was OK.

"Ruby's not like other demons. She saved my life," Anna was saying.

"Yeah, I hear she does that. I guess I... You know," Dean said, offhandedly.

"What?" Ruby snapped.

"I guess I owe you for... Sam. And I just wanted... you know…" Dean sounded like he was gritting his teeth, he knew. But dammit, he knew why Ruby was doing all of this. If he didn't have to work with her now for Anna's sake, he'd gank her in a heartbeat. But you can't always get what you want.

"Don't strain yourself," Ruby sneered.

Dean nodded at her.

"Hey, Sam, you think it'd be safe to make a quick call, just to tell my parents I'm okay? They must be completely freaked," Anna said.

Sam shifted awkwardly, "Uh…"

"What?"

"Anna, um... Your parents…" Sam stuttered.

"What about them?" Anna said, her voice getting higher with distress.

"Look, I'm sorry." Anna was crying and begging Sam to explain all of this. Dean knew he could tell her, but he wasn't sure if explaining that she was a fallen angel and her entire life was a lie would go down all that well. She was freaking out enough as it was.

Suddenly, Anna's head came up. "They're coming."

"Back room," Dean commanded, pointing. Sam guided Anna into the back room and closed the door behind her.

"Where's the knife?" Ruby hissed.

"Uh... about that…" Dean said, managing to look sheepish.

"You're kidding," Ruby said in disbelief.

"Hey, don't look at me." Dean said, looking significantly at his brother.

"Thanks a lot," Sam snapped.

"Great. Just peachy. Impeccable timing, guys, really."

"Is now really the time to-" The door rattled violently and burst open. Cas and Uriel entered the cabin.

"Please tell me you're here to help," Dean said but he knew they weren't. "We've been having demon issues all day."

"Well, I can see that. You want to explain why you have that stain in the room?" Uriel growled and Ruby bared her teeth at him. Cas gave him a quelling glance and then turned his attention to Dean.

"We're here for Anna," he said gently. Dean flinched. _God, this was the worst._

"Here for her like... here for her?" he replied snarkily.

"Stop talking," Uriel demanded. "Give her to us."

Sam stepped forward. "Are you gonna help her?" he asked hopefully. It hurt Dean's heart.

"No," Cas rumbled. "She has to die."

"You want Anna," Sam cried. "Why?"

Uriel shoved Sam aside. "Out of the way." Dean's eyes widened, he did not want Sam and Uriel to tangle one-on-one.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Okay, I know she's wiretapping your angel chats or whatever, but it's no reason to gank her," he said. Uriel bared his teeth at him in what Dean supposed was meant to be a smile.

"Don't worry. I'll kill her gentle." he said. Dean's temper began to flare.

"You're some heartless sons of bitches, you know that?" he snarled.

"As a matter of fact, we are," Cas said sternly. "And?" That hurt. Goddamn, that hurt. _Cas! Don't do this!_

"Anna's an innocent girl!" Sam was saying. Cas turned his gaze on Dean's brother and it was cold.

"She is far from innocent," the angel said.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means she's worse than this abomination you've been screwing," Uriel said shortly. "Now give us the girl."

"Sorry. Get yourself another one. Try JDate," Dean said. _How the Hell was he supposed to fix this? They barely survived the last time._

"Who's gonna stop us? You two? Or this demon whore?" Uriel asked. _Oh, Uriel, you are gonna get yours_ , Dean thought as Uriel threw Ruby against a wall. He leapt to her defence, they needed Ruby alive for now.

"Cas, stop...please," Sam pleaded.

"My name is Castiel," Cas said savagely and touched his fingers to Sam's forehead. The hunter collapsed to the floor. Cas stared down at him, contempt tugging at his mouth. Dean's breath huffed out of him as Uriel punched him, hard.

"I've been waiting for this," Uriel told him with relish. When a bright, white light engulfed Uriel and Cas and they vanished, Dean crumpled to the floor in relief.

"Thank… uh. Well." he commented and dragged himself upright again. He offered his hand to Ruby and helped her to her feet. "Come on." Ruby hurried over to Sam's side and Dean went to check on Anna.

"Sam?" Ruby said. Sam's eyelids fluttered open.

"Hey, Ruby. What… happened?"

"The angel zapped you and you passed out." Ruby told him.

"So where did they go?" Sam asked her.

Ruby shook her head. "No idea. There was a flash of light and then pow! They were gone."

Sam began to struggle to his feet and Ruby offered him a hand. Dean came out of Anna's room, and dashed over to his duffel bag. He pulled out some medical supplies and returned to the back room.

"Is Anna OK?" Ruby called, seeing the look in Sam's eyes.

"Yeah," Dean called back. "She… uh… cut herself. Accidentally." Ruby's eyebrows dived over her nose. Accidentally her ass. She turned back to Sam.

"You OK?" He nodded and she stood and went to find out how this mystery woman really hurt herself.

Dean was carefully stitching a deep cut on Anna's arm. He looked up in irritation when Ruby entered the room.

"Some accident," Ruby opined. Dean ignored her. She spotted the blood on the mirror and went to examine it. Some kind of Enochian sigil perhaps. She frowned at it. It was smeared and parts were missing, but somehow the redhead had managed to banish not one but two angels with it. Lilith would be very interested to see this, incomplete or not. She slipped her phone out of her pocket and was just about to snap a picture when Dean snatched the phone out of her hand.

"Uh uh," he said. "That's not for you."

"Oh come on!" Ruby protested. "I need protection too."

Dean swiped his hand across the mirror, obliterating the sigil. "Not like this." he said firmly. She pouted at him and flounced out of the room.

* * *

Dean wandered around Bobby's panic room, memories crowding in on him.

"Are you OK, son?" Bobby asked in a low voice. Dean looked around but there were too many people in here right now.

"Not here," he said. "Later."

"All right," Bobby agreed. "Later."

"How did you manage to convince Pamela to help us?" Dean asked him. Bobby gave a modest shrug.

"I told her it was a chance to stick it to those winged assholes and she practically ran here," the grizzled old hunter told him.

"I guess that makes sense," Dean mused. He noticed Bobby was giving him the side-eye. "What?"

"Come on, H.G. Wells. You know what Anna's story is, right?" Bobby said. "Spill it." Dean sighed.

"She's a fallen angel," he muttered so that only Bobby would hear. "Ripped out her own Grace and Fell."

"What!" Bobby exclaimed. All heads in the room turned towards him. "Uh, sorry." He shifted closer to Dean. "Why did she do it?"

Dean's mouth twisted. "She was tired of the whole emotionless robot schtick. Wanted something more. Something… human, I guess." Anna started screaming and every bulb in the room shattered.

"Showtime," Dean said.

* * *

Frat boy was hovering again, Crowley noticed with irritation. He glanced one final time at the contract he was writing and then pushed it aside. "Yes?"

"Sir, I uh, you have a visitor?" Frat boy was fidgeting so much he was almost dancing. He looked terrified.

"Who is it?" Crowley growled at him. Honestly, demons these days. Barely even house-broken.

"I don't know, sir."

Crowley slammed his hand down on the desk hard and frat boy flinched. "Did you ask?" he drawled.

"Yes, sir. Of course, sir. He said he needed to keep his visit low-key."

"Fine. Send him in," Crowley said, rolling his eyes. He blinked at the tall, elegant man strolled into the room and made a formal bow.

"Crowley," the man said, his voice deep and musical. "We meet at last."

"I'm afraid you have the advantage of me," Crowley responded. Power radiated off this being, who despite appearances was definitely not human. What he actually was, Crowley had no idea.

"Call me Lucien," the redhead advised. "It's not my name, but it will do."

"Names mean nothing," Crowley observed. "I'm far more interested in _what_ you are."

"I'm one of the Gods of your forefathers," Lucien said idly. Crowley blinked. This… thing… was claiming to be Tuatha De Danaan?

"I see," Crowley said, although he really, really didn't. "What can I do for you?"

Lucien laughed, a bright, merry sound that tugged somewhere deep in Crowley's gut. "I have no soul to sell, so don't get any ideas," he said.

"Perish the thought," Crowley muttered. "What do you want?"

"The Winchesters."

"No. Oh, no. No way. I'm not getting entangled with the vessels of Lucifer and Michael. Do I look suicidal?" Crowley watched Lucien struggle to contain his rage. He'd never met these hunters but they'd clearly made a powerful enemy here.

"I can make it worth your while," Lucien said, after a moment.

"Really?" Crowley said. "You want to make a deal?"

Lucien huffed out a breath of irritation. "Yes," he said tightly. "I have information that I think you'll want to know. I'll give it to you, if you can tell me how to find the Winchesters. I lost their trail and I don't seem to be able to pick it up again."

"It's probably the angels doing," Crowley told him. "I don't know where they are either. But I know someone who does."

* * *

"Don't be afraid, I'm not like the others," Anna was saying as they entered Bobby's library.

"I don't find that very reassuring," Ruby said icily.

"Neither do I," Pamela agreed. Bobby eyed her nervously. He'd asked Pamela to help, but he'd sworn she wasn't going to get too tangled up in this crap. He felt terrible about it. Anna was explaining how she ripped out her Grace and fell. How painful it was. Pamela sidled up to him.

"You buying what she's sellin'?" she muttered.

"You don't believe she's an angel?" Bobby asked in surprise.

"What? No. I believe that all right. No, I mean the whole innocence thing. Not remembering who she was until it was convenient. Now an angel, a demon and two hunters are going to go searching for her Grace?"

"You think she's playing us," Bobby said, tugging on his beard.

Pamela shook her head slowly. "I don't know. I do know that she has her own agenda."

"Yeah, well, that ain't exactly a news flash," Bobby said sourly. Pamela had grabbed him by the arm and he looked down at her in alarm. Her face was very intent and concerned.

"Be careful, Bobby. These angels, they don't screw around. I don't know that helping this girl is all that smart."

"I know," Bobby said, patting her hand soothingly. "But I can't see John Winchester's boys leaving her to the mercies of angels and demons fighting it out. Can you?"

"No," Pamela said ruefully. "More's the pity. But I'm done. I'm sorry Bobby."

"Don't be sorry," he said, kissing the top of her head. "You've already done more than we had any right to ask you for. I'll take you home."


	9. Chapter 9

Dean looked up as Anna sauntered across to him. He turned and leaned against the Impala.

"Hey," he said. "Holding up okay?"

Anna gave him a wan smile. "Trying."

"Yeah," Dean agreed.

"A little scared, I guess. So, um... Dean... I just wanted to thank you." Her voice quavered alarmingly for a moment.

"For what?" Dean asked her.

Anna made an expansive gesture. "Everything. You guys - you didn't have to help me -"

"Hey, let's can the "thanks for trying" speech, you know?" Dean said, holding up his hands. "Participation trophies suck ass." He'd hoped Anna would laugh but she looked even more solemn.

"I don't know. Maybe I don't deserve to be saved."

"Don't talk like that," Dean told her.

Anna shook her head. "I disobeyed. Lucifer disobeyed. It's our murder one, and I knew it. Maybe I got to pay." Her mouth turned downwards.

"Yeah, well, we've all done things we got to pay for." Dean said.

Anna shifted uneasily. "I got to tell you something. You're not gonna like it."

"OK," Dean said. He knew what she was going to say. "What?"

"About a week ago, I heard the angels talking... About you... What you did in Hell. Dean, I know. It wasn't your fault. You should forgive yourself." Dean rolled his shoulders and she eyed him uncertainly. "You already knew."

"Yeah," Dean said. "It's… complicated."

"I know. But you should talk about it, you have people that want to help. You are not alone. That's all I'm trying to say." She leaned forward and kissed him and he stepped back.

"What was that for?" he stammered. Smooth, Winchester. Real smooth.

"You know... Our last night on earth... All that," Anna said with a shy smile. Dammit. She was hot. And it had been pretty good, last time.

"You're stealing my best line," Dean told her with a sad smile. "But I can't do this."

Anna looked disappointed. "Why not?"

"I told you," Dean said heavily. "It's complicated." Anna rolled her eyes.

"Then uncomplicate it."

"I… can't."

"This is about Castiel, isn't it?" Anna accused. Dean gave a rueful grin.

"Yeah. Partly."

"You know he'll never feel the same way about you," Anna said thinly. "He can't. You can't ever be together. You can't even be friends. Don't you understand?"

"You're wrong," Dean told her. "I can't explain how I know, but you're wrong. We are friends. Or we will be." Anna leaned her head back and looked at the stars.

"You're crazy," she said affectionately. "Oh well. Can't blame a girl for trying."

* * *

Dean looked around the barn in confusion. Hadn't he fallen asleep in the Impala? A scrape behind him made him turn around to see Uriel walking towards him, a sneer on his face.

"Look at that. It's so cute when monkeys wear clothes," the angel said.

Understanding dawned. "I'm dreaming, aren't I?"

"It's the only way we could chat... since you're hiding like cowards." Cowards was it? Uriel had strange ideas about what could get under his skin.

"Don't normally see you off leash. Where's your boss?" Dean said easily. Uriel stiffened and he suppressed a smile. A swing and a hit.

"Castiel? Oh, he, uh... He's not here. See, he has this weakness. He likes you." Dean couldn't help the little surge of joy he felt at Uriel's words. "Time's up, boy. We want the girl."

"Wouldn't try that if I were you," Dean bluffed. "See, she got her grace back. Full-blown angel now."

"That would be a neat trick, considering…" Uriel said, unconcerned. He fished out a pendant from under his shirt. "...I have her grace right here. We can't let Hell get their hooks into her." Fuck, that's right. That's why they couldn't find her Grace where it should have been. Damn his crappy memory.

"Well, then why don't you just give her back her angel juice?" He knew it was pointless but baiting Uriel was kind of like a hobby. He could see Uriel struggling to keep his expression impassive but the irritation was there.

"She committed a serious crime," Uriel said sternly.

"What? Thinking for herself?" Dean snarked and again a flicker of irritation passed over Uriel's face.

"This is our business, not yours. She's not even human... Not technically." Uriel said stiffly.

"Yeah, well, I guess I just like being a pain in the pooper." Uriel's disgust wasn't even disguised this time. Dean was having fun now. Uriel peered at him.

"Interesting," he said, sounding surprised. "You were offered a slice of...angel food cake. And you turned it down. Didn't you? Huh? You did. Why would you do that?"

"What do you care?" Dean snapped. He was still irritated with himself for refusing Anna's advances. "You're junkless down there, right? Like a Ken doll?"

Uriel shook his head. "Odd. I was sure you would have… seized the opportunity." A cold feeling began to twist in Dean's stomach. What the Hell was Uriel saying?

The angel shrugged. "Well, it's your last chance. Give us the girl, or -"

"Or what? What, you're gonna toss me back in the hole?" Dean shook his head. "You're bluffing."

"Am I?" Uriel asked. "This is a whole lot bigger than the plans we got for you, Dean. You can be replaced." But he didn't look like he believed it.

"Go ahead and do it," Dean challenged and Uriel let out a bark of laughter.

"You're just crazy enough to go, aren't you?" he said, sounding almost eager.

"What can I say?" Dean said carelessly, "I don't break easy."

"Oh, yes... you do." Uriel said, coming and standing close to him. Dean stepped back unwillingly. "You just got to know where to apply the right pressure."

"Fuck you," he said. "We're done here."  
"Oh no," Uriel said. "We're only just getting started. It took us a while to realize where your weaknesses are, boy. Threaten you and you bluff and bluster and maybe you would let us throw you back in the Pit rather than hand the girl over. But what about Sam?"

"What about Sam?" Dean said in alarm.

"You've done a lot for your little brother, haven't you?" Uriel continued. "Terrible, unforgivable things. So what's one more?"

"No," Dean said, shaking his head in denial. "No, you wouldn't."

"Wouldn't I?" Uriel asked. "Why not?"  
"Because you need Sammy. Just like you need me."

"Ah, you know about that? No matter. Reality check, Dean. If I throw Sam Winchester into the Pit or kill him and bury him six feet under, you don't think Lucifer can't resurrect him when the time is right. And he'll be all softened up and ready to say yes from the get-go."

"Heads you win, tails I lose," Dean said, depression laying like a blanket on his shoulders.

"Indeed," Uriel agreed. "Now, give me the girl."

* * *

"I don't know, man," Sam said. "Where's Ruby?"

Dean took a swig from his hipflask and shrugged. "Hey, she's your Hell buddy."

"Little early for that, isn't it?" Anna said waspishly. Dean flashed her a grin.

"It's 2 a.m. somewhere."

"You okay?" she said, peering at him.

He looked away. "Yeah, of course," he lied. The doors to the barn began to rattle and then opened with a blast. Cas and Uriel stalked into the barn, straw and splinters of wood flying around them.

"Hello, Anna. It's good to see you," Cas said, gave her a half-smile.

"How? How did you find us?" Sam demanded. Cas's eyes flicked to Dean and Sam swallowed. "Dean?"

Dean looked apologetically at Anna. "I'm sorry."

Sam looked thunderstruck. He stared at Dean, his mouth open in horror and surprise. "Why? After everything we've been through, why would you just give up like this?"

"Because they gave him a choice. They either kill me... or kill you. I know how their minds work." Anna said serenely. She walked over to Dean and kissed his cheek. "You did the best you could. I forgive you." She turned to face the angels. "Okay. No more tricks. No more running. I'm ready."

"I'm sorry," Cas said and he really did sound apologetic.

"No. You're not. Not really. You don't know the feeling." Anna told him coolly.

Cas looked uncomfortable. "Still, we have a history. It's just -"

"Orders are orders," Anna said, half-amused and half bitter. "I know. Just make it quick."

"Don't you touch a hair on that poor girl's head." Alastair's voice cracked out from the barn door. He stood there with a bleeding, pale-looking Ruby, who was being held up by two other demons.

"How dare you come in this room... you pussing sore?" Uriel roared.

"Name-calling. That hurt my feelings…" Alastair said insouciantly. "You sanctimonious, fanatical prick."

"Turn around and walk away now," Cas advised.

"Sure. Just give us the girl." Alastair shrugged. "We'll make sure she gets punished good and proper."

Cas leveled a look at him. "You know who we are and what we will do. I won't say it again. Leave now... or we lay you to waste."

Alastair grinned, clearly enjoying himself. "Think I'll take my chances."

A demon launched itself at Uriel and they both crashed backwards into a pile of hay. Cas lunged forward and grabbed Alastair's head, clearly trying to exorcize him, but for some reason it didn't seem to be working.

"Sorry, kiddo." Alastair snarked. "Why don't you go run to daddy?" There was a flash of light and a scream as Uriel exorcized the demon he was tangling with. Alastair began chanting, his wicked eyes dancing as he advanced on Cas. Dean took his opening and whacked him hard with a crowbar. Alastair turned, his face contorted with rage.

"Dean, Dean, Dean…" he snarled. "I am _so_ disappointed. You had such promise." He threw out a hand, slamming Dean and Sam backwards into a wall. Dean yelped as pain shot down his left leg. Uriel had leapt forward and slammed the other demon onto the floor and burned him out but as he did so, the pendant swung free and Anna, who had been waiting for an opening, snatched it away.

"No!" Uriel cried out, but he was too late. Anna had already broken the pendant and her Grace flowed out. Her mouth opened in a soundless scream and the Grace began to enter.

"Shut your eyes. Shut your eyes! Shut your eyes!" she yelled. Dean and Sam both scrunched their eyes tightly closed and even then, the brightness of the light was almost unbearable.

When Dean opened his eyes, Cas and Uriel were standing there staring at him.

"Well, what are you guys waiting for?" Dean groaned, sliding down onto the floor. "Go get Anna. Unless, of course, you're scared."

"This isn't over," Uriel growled.

"Oh, it looks over to me, junkless." Dean gasped. Uriel vanished in a flurry of feathers, leaving Cas to stand there, looking lost. He walked over to Dean, and knelt down beside him.

"Dean," the angel rumbled. "You're hurt."

Dean looked down at the large gash in his thigh. Where had he gotten that?

"Uh, yeah," he agreed. Cas placed his hand over the wound and frowned. Sam exchanged a look with Ruby.

"You okay?" Sam asked her.

Ruby gave a long groan. "Not so much."

Cas was shaking his head and muttering. Sam looked at him with concern.

"Cas? What's up?"

"This injury is more serious than I thought," the angel said, sounding worried. "It seems to be… tainted."

"What does that mean?" Sam asked, shards of panic sliding into his voice.

"It means we need to get him to a hospital," Cas said. He scooped Dean up off the ground and stood up.

"Hey," Dean protested weakly. And then the sound of wingbeats and Dean and Cas were gone.

"Shit!" Sam swore. He looked at Ruby. "Now what do we do?"

"We go track them down," she said tiredly.

* * *

It took Sam over an hour to find the hospital where Cas had transported Dean. The angel was standing pensively beside Dean's bed when Sam arrived. His brother was pale and his eyes were closed.

"Cas," Sam said in relief. "Thank God. How is he?"  
"Bad," the angel said laconically. "They've repaired the damage as well as they can but he lost a lot of blood and there's this strange… darkness that swirls around the wound."

"I don't understand," Sam confessed.

"Neither do I," Cas told him. "Dean's leg was injured by a piece of farming equipment. Unsanitary perhaps but nothing more than that. But this is more like a wound from an enchanted blade."

"You think Alastair is responsible?" Sam asked.

"No," Cas said. "I don't think so." His fingers reached out and brushed Dean's arm. "It's not demonic, it's something else. Old, and malevolent, but definitely earthly."

"He can't die, Cas. Not again. I can't go through that again," Sam pleaded. Cas turned his head to look at him, his eyes savage.

"Do you think I want him to die?" the angel demanded. "I fought through the fires of Hell to reach him. And I would do so again. I would do so a thousand times." He looked back at Dean, and Sam gulped at the look on his face. On a human he'd call it anguish. On Cas? He didn't know what to make of it. And then Cas was gone. A single feather floated to the ground and Sam picked it up. It was blue-black and soft, and it seemed to vibrate in his hand. He placed it under Dean's pillow and then pulled his phone out of his pocket.

* * *

Ruby winced as Lilith tore the head off Mitch's meatsuit like he was made of paper. The demon smoked out of there before Lilith's wrath could do anything worse.

"Incompetence!" Lilith ranted. "Treachery!"

"We did the best we could," Ruby said. "But even Alastair's no match for two seraphs."

"How could you screw up something so simple?" Lilith screeched, ignoring her. "Go, pick up one little fallen angel, bring her here. Easy."

Ruby bowed her head. Trying to placate Lilith when she was in this mood was almost impossible. Her phone buzzed and she silenced it with her thumb.

"And where is Alastair now?" Lilith continued.

"He's gone back to Hell to receive new orders," Ruby explained. "Lucifer still thinks we need the inside track in Heaven."

"Far be it from me to criticize," Lilith said grumpily. "But that's a fool's errand. Angels are not independent thinkers."

Ruby shrugged, it didn't matter to her. "Maybe. But Anna was our best shot at getting the down low on their preparations. Failing that, we need a mole."

"Who's the target?" Lilith asked, her curiosity finally trumping her temper.

"Uriel," Ruby said. "He's rigid and so far, loyal, but he's also volatile and has no real love for humanity."

"This was your idea," Lilith said sharply. Ruby nodded, there was little point in denying it. "Interesting. All right, I'll support Alastair in this. Let him know when he returns from the Pit."

* * *

"Mr Ulrich," the doctor said, touching Sam's shoulder. He awoke with a start and blinked owlishly at her a couple of times.

"Uh, yeah?" He looked over at Dean, who was paler than ever and seemed… smaller somehow.

"We've run some additional tests and I'm afraid we're no closer to finding an answer. He's tested negative for every kind of bacteria, fungus or other organism we can think of and yet still his wound will not close and his fever isn't breaking. Has this ever happened before?"  
Sam shook his head. "No. Never."

"No family history of bleeding disorders?"  
"No, nothing like that."

"Could he be on any kind of medication? Or… recreational substance?" The doctor looked uncomfortable.

"No," Sam repeated. "He drinks, sure. But nothing else. And other than the occasional Tylenol or Advil, I can't think of any other medication he's taken recently."

"Very well," the doctor said but Sam got the impression she didn't quite believe him. "If you think of anything, you'll let me know?"

"Sure," Sam said. He sighed as the doctor nodded and left the room. After a moment, a nurse entered and gave him a smile. He was tall, with reddish blond hair and a curiously foxy expression.

"I just need to switch out his IV," the man said, a light Irish brogue lulling Sam's senses. He nodded vaguely. The man worked quickly and efficiently and then nodded to Sam and left. It was only once the nurse had gone that Sam realized that the new IV bag held a different colored liquid to the one that had been there before. This one was a dark yellow and looked rather unpleasant. Dean groaned suddenly and Sam dashed to his side.

"Dean?"

Dean's body jerked and the machine that was monitoring his vital signs began to wail alarms. Sam hit the emergency button and then threw open the door, yelling down the corridor for help. A pair of nurses emerged from the room next door and hurried towards him.

"What's going on?" the older woman demanded.

"He's having some kind of fit!" Sam yelped. "A nurse came and changed his IV and then this happened. He started at the bag, it was almost completely empty. How was that possible?

The younger woman detached the IV and turned off the screaming machine while the older one inserted a wooden spatula from her pocket between Dean's teeth. The doctor who had talked to Sam earlier entered the room, and she began barking orders at the two nurses. She turned to Sam.

"Please, wait outside," she said shortly and then turned her attention back to Dean. He was no longer thrashing around but his breathing was ragged. Then he rolled over and vomited all over the floor. The nurses didn't seem to mind. The doctor laid one hand on Dean's shoulder.

"Mr Ulrich? Dean?"

"Uhnnhh," Dean mumbled. And then threw up again.

Sam clenched his fists. "Cas, if you can hear this, please, please come."

"Sam," Cas said from behind him and he jumped. "What's happening?"

"I don't know," Sam said miserably. "A nurse came and changed his IV, and next thing I know he's having a seizure."

Inside the room, the nurses were cleaning up and the doctor was frowning at the empty IV bag. Cas opened the door and snatched it out of her hand. Sam blinked but the doctor didn't seem to care. She left the room quietly and the two nurses filed out behind her.

"What is it?" Sam asked, entering the room.

"Fionn's whiskey," Cas said.

"What's that?"

"It's a drink made by the Tuatha de Danaan," Cas said. "For them it is merely intoxicating. For a human, it is reputed to purge the body of evil."

"Evil? Like demonic influence?" Sam asked. "I thought you said Dean's problem wasn't demonic."

"Demons are not the only evil in the world," Cas said severely. "I think we need to go back to that farm and investigate."

"So who gave Dean this Fionn's whiskey, anyway? And is it going to do him any harm?"

"I think it has in fact cured him," Cas said. "But there may be… side effects."

"What kind of side effects?" Sam demanded.

"Hallucinations, delusions, sometimes full psychosis," Cas told him. When Sam looked alarmed he added, "Dean might be fine. He has an unusually strong constitution."

"OK," Sam said. It was not OK, but what could he do. "So who did this? And why?"

"I don't know," Cas said.

* * *

The farm was still deserted, thankfully. Sam was surprised how serene it seemed given the pitched battle that had occurred here only two days previously. Cas was silent and brooding. They picked their way through the barn to the spot where Dean had fallen. Black ooze spread out on the straw, a sickly sweet smell of death and rot rising from it. Sam covered his nose and mouth with his shirt sleeve and coughed.

The angel knelt by the pool of foul liquid and dipped two fingers in it. He sniffed it cautiously and wrinkled his nose. Standing, he looked around the barn, his eyes distant.

"What is it?" Sam choked out.

"An impossibility," Cas snapped. He strode over to a corner and place one hand on the wall. The angel closed his eyes and muttered under his breath. A ghostly blue fire swept over the entire floor of the barn, flaring reddish black as it passed over Sam and then lighting up a section of the wall in sickly green. Cas flicked a glance at Sam that made his heart jump up to his mouth and then he walked over to the green glow. There, embedded in the wall was a knife. It wasn't particularly remarkable looking but Sam felt strangely drawn to it.

"You can feel it now, can't you?" Cas asked.

"What is it?" Sam asked.

"Something that should not be here," Cas said. Sam found himself unconsciously reaching for it and Cas shoved him away.

"Do not touch it!"

"Ow, hey, I'm sorry." Sam said irritably.

"I must arrange for this to be dealt with," Cas said. "Go back to the hospital and wait for me there."

"Can't I just-" Sam started and Cas glared at him, cutting him off.

"No. Now, go."

* * *

Uriel stared at the blade embedded in the wall of the barn in disbelief.

"How is this possible?" he asked.

Cas shook his head. "I don't know. And it's a strange coincidence, don't you think?"

"I don't believe in coincidence," Uriel stated. He looked around the barn. "Do you think Alastair brought it here?"

"If he did, how did he get it?" Cas asked pointedly. "It was supposed to be in Heaven, under heavy protection."

"Gabriel's protection," Uriel reminded him. "And Gabriel's gone. Maybe dead. Who knows?"

"He's not dead," Cas said softly. "I refuse to believe that."

"I'd forgotten how close you two were," Uriel said witheringly. "Heaven's better off without him."  
Cas kept his mouth shut. No use angering Uriel when he needed his help.

"So, what do we do with this?" he asked.

Uriel pondered it for a moment. "I will take it to Michael," he said finally. "He will know what to do."

* * *

Dean opened heavily crusted eyes to see Sam sleeping in an uncomfortable looking chair. He squinted around the room. Looked like a hospital. Awesome.

"Sammy?" he croaked.

Sam's eyes flew open and he grabbed Dean's hand. Dean shook him off weakly. "Dean!"

"Sammy, what happened?"  
"We don't know, exactly," Sam hedged. "You were injured in the fight in the barn."

"Oh, yeah," Dean said. "I think I remember. Something jabbed me in the leg when Alastair threw me against the wall."

"Yeah, well, me and Cas went back to look and there was this weird-looking knife embedded in the wall. I've never seen Cas so unnerved." Sam told him.

"What kind of knife?" Dean asked.

"Old," Sam said, trying to recall. His memory seemed hazy. "I think the blade wasn't metal. More like some kind of black stone."

"Obsidian?" Dean asked and Sam stared at him in horrified astonishment.

"Maybe," he said. "How the Hell did you know?"

"I've come across it before. Uh, in the future. It nearly killed Ga- uh, a friend of ours."

"Well, Cas seemed pretty shocked to find it," Sam told him. "Anyway, somebody came in here and gave you something called Fionn's whiskey. It made you sick but it seems to have cleared you of the taint from that blade."

"Fionn's whiskey?" Dean repeated. "What the Hell is that?"

"Some kind of drink made by the Tuatha de Danaan." Sam explained and was appalled by the way Dean blanched.

"No," he breathed. "No way."

"What is it?"

"Never mind, is that shit gonna kill me?" Dean demanded.

"I don't think so. Cas said it would have purged you of evil or something." Sam said nervously.

"Why the Hell would that rat bastard save my life?" Dean wondered.

"Who? Cas?" Sam asked, bewildered.

"No," Dean said impatiently. "Lugh."

* * *

Once the doctor was satisfied that Dean's leg was healing properly, she arranged to have him discharged.

"But be careful," she admonished. "Don't overexert yourself or you'll end up right back here."

Dean gave her a mocking salute. "Yes, ma'am." She rolled her eyes at him and waved him off. He limped out of the hospital, Sam hot on his heels.

"I know you heard him," Dean said finally, as they crossed the parking lot to the car.

"Who?" Sam asked.

"Alastair," Dean replied. "What he said... about how I had promise."

"I heard him," Sam said carefully.

"You're not curious?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Dean, I'm damn curious. But despite what you said, you haven't talked about Hell, and I'm not pushing." Dean laid one hand on the hood of the car, tears pricking at the back of his eyes.

"It wasn't four months, you know," he said. Sam stared at him, open-mouthed. "It was four months up here, but down there... I don't know. Time's different. It was more like 40 years."

"My God," Sam exhaled.

"They, uh... They sliced and carved and tore at me in ways that you... Until there was nothing left. And then, suddenly... I would be whole again... like magic... just so they could start in all over. And Alastair... at the end of every day... every one... he would come over. And he would make me an offer. To take me off the rack... if I put souls on... if I started the torturing. And every day, I told him to stick it where the sun shines. For 30 years, I told him. But then I couldn't do it anymore, Sammy. I couldn't. And I got off that rack. God help me, I got right off it, and I started ripping them apart. I lost count of how many souls." Dammit, even after all this time, this was still so hard to talk about. The threatened tears began to roll down his cheeks. "The - the things that I did to them."

"Dean…" Sam said, alarmed. "Dean, look, you held out for 30 years. That's longer than anyone would have."

"It gets worse," Dean sobbed. "Me, torturing souls in Hell? It was the first seal. I was the one who kicked this whole damn thing off. It's my fault. It's all my fault."

"Dean," Sam interjected. "It's not your fault. How could anyone stand up to such relentless torture?"

"Dad did," Dean added helplessly. "For far longer than I did. It was supposed to be him that broke that seal. And he held out. He held out because he's strong and I'm weak. Everything bad that's happened, is because I wasn't strong enough."

"Look," Sam said. "If Dad held out longer than you, then good for him. But maybe he knew why he had to hold out. Did you know you were breaking the first seal by giving in?"

Dean shook his head. "No. But that's not the point."

"It _is_ the point," Sam insisted. "If you'd known what was at stake, maybe that would have helped. But you can't go back in time and change it." A strange look passed over his face. "Can you?"

"I don't think so," Dean said, defeated. "I've heard nothing from Tenebrae since I woke up in the coffin."

"Did it say it would be in touch?" Sam asked.

"No," Dean said. "But, you have to understand, Sam. I wasn't in the best condition when I made the decision to come back. I didn't ask enough questions. I certainly wasn't expecting to end up here."

"Oh," Sam said curiously. "What do you mean?"

"I was only supposed to go back a few years," Dean said. "Of course, _technically_ , Tenebrae didn't lie. It said before Me- uh, well, maybe I shouldn't talk too much about that. But the point is, it said before a certain date. And this is definitely before."

"But you also said I was supposed to remember too." Sam pointed out. Dean frowned as he tried to recall exactly what Tenebrae had promised.

"You know, it only really promised that _I_ would remember. It said it would try its best to have you and Cas remember too."

"Why do you call it, it?" Sam said, changing the subject suddenly.

"I don't know," Dean admitted. "I never got a sense of gender I suppose."

"And you think it's a monster," Sam added. "You often use 'it' around monsters."

"Yeah."

"So tell me, Dean. What was going on that was so desperate, you were willing to trust a monster?" Sam asked, his tone leaden.

Dean flicked a guilty glance at his brother. "I used to be pretty black and white about this stuff I guess."

"Are you saying you're not so black and white now?" Sam said incredulously.

"I dunno," Dean admitted. "I guess not. Not after… well... You."

"Me," Sam said flatly. "You think I'm a monster."

"No!" Dean denied. "Not really. But, uh, it was touch and go for a while."

"Thanks a lot," Sam said sarcastically, pushing away from the car.

"No!" Dean exclaimed. "You don't understand."

"You're damn right I don't," Sam snarled. He climbed into the Impala and slammed the door.


	10. Chapter 10

Ruby pursed her lips in annoyance. Merlion had found her, as promised. And he was even stupider than she and Lilith had supposed, because he'd filled the gun with regular bullets and shot her with it.

"That hurt, dammit," she swore. Merlion was possessing some plumpish kid with bad skin and too much hair. It was a perfect meatsuit for such a pathetic demon.

"I… uh. I'm sorry. It just went off," he gabbled and she cast him a jaundiced look.

"Bullshit," she snapped. "You thought you could kill me and then take my place at Lilith's side. Like she'd ever trust a demon as moronic as you."

"She trusted me to bring the gun to you," Merlion stammered. Ruby rolled her eyes. "How was I to know regular bullets wouldn't work?"

"So you _were_ trying to kill me? I ought to rip off your head." She'd given her knife back to Sam alas, so she couldn't kill the little turd. But she could threaten. "I'll be making my report to Lilith."

The pathetic worm began to blubber. "No, please. She'll crucify me."

"If you're lucky," Ruby agreed. "Now get out of my sight." Merlion fled as quickly as his legs could carry him.

"A prize specimen, that one," Crowley observed from the shadows. Ruby spun around to face him. "One of Lilith's loyal henchmen?"

"Yes," she sighed. "And he's totally brainless. I have no idea what she sees in him."

"True devotion should not be overrated," Crowley told her. "Having people you can trust is important if you ever want to scale the ranks." Ugh, was he going to start monologuing at her again? She held out the Colt to forestall him and his eyes lit up.

"Ah," he said with satisfaction. He examined the gun carefully and his mouth turned downwards. "Well.I don't know who's stupider. That chubby moron, you or Lilith."

"I don't know what you mean," Ruby said loftily. Crowley tossed the gun back to her.

"It's a fake."

"What!" She looked closely at the revolver in horror. "It looks authentic."

"Oh it's a good fake," Crowley agreed. "But it's not the real Colt."

"Merlion's not smart enough to pull something like this off," Ruby said narrowing her eyes. "Remember, I've seen the real thing before and I was fooled."

"So, did Lilith double cross you or did someone double cross Lilith?" Crowley pressed.

"I don't know," Ruby said tightly. "But I intend to find out."

* * *

Sam observed the dejected magician at the bar as he and Dean approached. There was never going to be good outcome to this case, and his heart ached for the man. He'd lost everything, and it wasn't because of anything he'd done.

"Hey, Jay. We wanted to thank you for what you did yesterday." Dean said. Jay glared at him. Sam knew this was a mistake.

"I killed my best friend yesterday, and you want to thank me?" Jay said incredulously.

"Where's Vernon?" Sam asked, looking around.

"Oh, he's gone," Jay said despondently. "He said he didn't want to speak to me again after what I did to Charlie."

"Listen, Jay...you know Charlie was never gonna give up what he was doing. Ever. You did the right thing." Dean told him.

Jay gave him a dubious look. "Are you sure about that? You know, Charlie was like my brother. And now he's dead... because I did 'the right thing.' He offered me a gift, and I just threw it back in his face. So now I have to spend the rest of my life old and alone. What's so right about that?" He got up to leave and the bartender spotted his cards on the bar.

"Jay...your cards."

"Throw them away," Jay said and left.

"Well, I don't know about you, but...I could go for a beer," Dean said. Sam looked at his brother in something very close to disgust. He loved Dean, but he could be a cold son-of-a-bitch sometimes.

"I'm gonna take a walk," he announced and headed outside. In the alley behind the bar, Ruby was waiting in her car. He opened the door and climbed into the passenger seat.

"OK," he said. "I'm in."

Ruby gave him a wary look. "What changed your mind?" she asked.

"I don't want to be doing this when I'm an old man," Sam grimaced.

"Good news, Sam," Ruby said brightly. "One way or another, you won't."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sam asked suspiciously.

"Look," Ruby said seriously. "It's not complicated. You kill Lilith. Or she kills you."

"Don't soften the blow, willya?" Sam snarked.

"I'm not here to babysit you," Ruby told him. "We have a job to do."

"Dean thinks we shouldn't kill her," Sam admitted and Ruby's stomach lurched with alarm. _Dammit, Sam was so mercurial!_

"Why?" she said as neutrally as she could. "Why wouldn't you want the bitch dead?"

"He says killing Lilith is the last seal. The one that opens Lucifer's Cage."

"Bullshit," Ruby declared. "Why would she be working on breaking seals if she herself was one? Don't you think she would be running away, not working to bring this about? I'm telling you, Lilith has no desire to die."

"Maybe she doesn't know," Sam pointed out.

"Really, Sam? You think she wouldn't know something like that? I don't know what your angel buddies have told you, but I'm telling you it's crap."

"OK," Sam said slowly. "But why would Dean lie about it? I mean, why try to stop me from killing Lilith unless he believes it to be true." He hadn't told Ruby about Dean's claim to have come from the future, because frankly he wasn't sure he believed him. That hurt, not to have full faith in Dean. But frankly, his brother seemed different since he came back from Hell. Like the experience had broken him, permanently.

"Because Castiel told him and he believes everything that come out of that feathered asshole's mouth," Ruby said viciously.

"Come off it, Ruby," Sam said. "He doesn't trust the angels any more than I do. They've more than proved they can't be trusted."

"Hmm. Have you seen the way Dean looks at Castiel? Or how the angel looks at him? I have eyes, Sam."

"You're imagining things," Sam said firmly. "Never mind anything else, Dean's straight."

"Really," Ruby drawled. "Dean Winchester. Straight arrow."

"Yes," Sam insisted. "Not that it would be a problem if he was gay. Or bi. But he isn't."

"You keep telling yourself that," Ruby said, amused. "I know what I saw."

* * *

Dean watched as Sam and Dr. Roberts flirted idly with each other, trying not to get too irritated. Sam was more than entitled to hook up if he wanted to, and maybe if he was it meant Ruby was out of the picture. But there was something about this Dr. Roberts that set his teeth slightly on edge. Maybe it was just the way she'd only had eyes for Sam ever since the beginning. He grimaced. Self-awareness was a bitch.

"Actually, uh, we're here on business," Sam was saying. "About the blood samples. The ones with the high...you know...oxytocin?"

"You still have them?" Dean added.

"Mm-hmm," Dr. Roberts said with a smile.

"Good, we need them," Dean said shortly and her smile dropped.

"What for?" she demanded. Dean opened his mouth to give her an explanation when another man, smartly dressed and screaming G-man, came over.

"Excuse me, Dr. Roberts?" he said. He was good-looking, if a little baby-faced, and with a slightly uncertain air of authority that suggested he was almost as young as he looked.

"Yeah?" Dr Roberts responded.

Dean sighed and pulled out his FBI credentials. "Excuse me, uh, we're a little busy here, buddy." he said dismissively. When the man pulled out his own badge, he cursed silently.

"Yeah, so am I, pal." the man said a little more aggressively.

"Doc, can you give us a sec, please?" Sam interjected diplomatically and Dr. Roberts nodded and backed away.

"What's your name?" Dean said, fixing the newcomer with a stern look.

"Nick Munroe. What's yours?"

"I'm Special Agent Sam Stiles, this is my partner Dean Murdoch. What office are you from?" Sam said smoothly before Dean could answer.

"Omaha, Violent Crimes Unit. My SAC sent me down here to see about the murders." Munroe glared at Sam.

"Hmm," Sam said.

When he didn't say anything more, Munroe challenged, "You?"

"D.C." Dean said. "Our Assistant Director assigned us." Hah! Take that baby feebie.

"Oh, which AD?" There was a skeptical note in his voice Sam noted with concern.

"Mike Kaiser."

"What are your badge numbers?" Munroe asked.

"You're kidding, right?" Dean said, rolling his eyes. Sam elbowed him surreptitiously.

"I'm just following protocol," Munroe said easily but there was a tension in his eyes.

Sam pulled out a business card and handed it to him. "Look man, whatever. Just call our AD, he'll sort things out." Munroe looked at the card, back at Sam and then pulled out his phone. While he was on the phone, Sam looked at Dean.

"You sure you don't remember this case?" he asked. "Now the real Feds are here, we're going to be tripping over him everywhere we turn."

Dean shook his head. "Sorry, Sam. I think this one's new. We have changed a few things from last time." Sam seemed to be looking at him skeptically. "I swear, dude, I don't remember this case!"

Munroe was heading back towards them. "I'm sorry, guys," he said contritely.

"Just don't let it happen again," Dean said gruffly.

"Where are you at with this?" Munroe asked.

"Where are you at with this?" Dean retorted.

"Well, I was just about to run the, uh, perps' bloodwork." Munroe said uncertainly. He kept his attention on Dean, even though it was Sam who answered.

"I already checked, dead end," Sam told him.

"Oh yeah?" Munroe said, slightly disbelieving.

"Yeah."

Munroe flicked a glance at Dean before returning to Sam. "But get this. I feel like I found something that, uh, connects all the murderers," he said, his gaze landing back on Dean again.

"Really?" Sam said politely. What was this guy up to?

Munroe nodded. "They were all banging strippers...from the same club."

"You don't say!" Dean said, and Sam knew only he could hear the false sincerity in his brother's voice.

"What do you say we, uh, go down there and check it out?" Munroe suggested.

Dean exchanged a look with Sam. "Well, here's the thing, Nick. See, we're kinda lone wolves…" Sam elbowed him discreetly.

"You know what, that sounds like an excellent idea. Just... just give me a second with my partner and we'll, uh...one sec." He looked at Dean, "Come here." He dragged Dean away, Munroe watching them as they retreated. "Dude, you gotta stay with him."

"What?" Dean blinked.

"Keep him outta the way," Sam said urgently.

"Why me?" Dean complained. Sam leveled a look at him. Seriously? Dean hadn't noticed how this guy was checking him out?

"'Cause I gotta get the blood samples," Sam said patiently.

Dean's shoulders slumped. "What the hell am I supposed to do with him?" Sam tried not to grin.

"Just take him to the strip club...keep an eye out for the siren. Come on, Dean, just... just focus on the naked girls. You'll forget he's even there! "

"I'm not doing this for you, I'm doing it for the girls," Dean sulked. Sam snorted in amusement and went off to find Dr. Roberts.

* * *

"All right," Dean announced. "We're taking my ride, no complaining about the tunes." Munroe stopped and gaped at the car.

"No way," he breathed. "You drive an Impala?"

"Yeah," Dean said, glancing sidelong at the agent.

"It's a '67, right? It's a 327 four barrel." Munroe continued in that same breathless tone.

Dean preened at the obvious awe in the other man's voice. "Yeah, actually."

"It's a thing of beauty," Munroe said, his eyes alight.

"Thanks."

"How the hell did you talk the Bureau into letting you drive your own wheels?" Munroe asked. Dean grinned at him.

The strip club was dark and the music pounded as various women in various states of undress danced against poles, sashayed through the club with trays of drinks and led some men off for private dances. What a case! And this FBI agent, Nick, wasn't a total douchebag, as it turned out. They'd drunk a couple of shots and challenged each other on their recall of various details of Led Zeppelin's back catalog.

But now he was eyeing Dean as if weighing something up. His gaze would flick out to the dancers and then return to Dean, especially if he thought Dean wasn't looking. It was beginning to weird him out.

"Hey," he said suddenly. "Can I level with you?

"Mmm," Dean said non-committally.

"I found something kinda weird," the agent confessed. Dean blinked and turned his attention back to Nick.

"Well. You have bought your weird to the right spot. Lay it on me," he said easily. A strange look passed across Nick's face for a moment, before returning to his usual, open expression.

"I went to the crime scene this morning. Saw them bagging this up," Nick said. He pulled an evidence bag out of his pocket and handed it to Dean. Inside were some purple flower petals. "So I went back, uh, through all the files. It turns out a flower just like that was found at every crime scene."

"Like it was left on purpose?" said Dean in surprise.

Nick nodded. "You know, sometimes a serial killer will leave an object behind, like a calling card. But with this case? Tell you the truth, I got no idea what's going on." Something tickled at the edge of Dean's memory.

"I think I might. I've seen a flower like this before."

Heading back to the car, Dean pulled out his phone and called Sam. The phone rang twice and then went to voicemail. _Dammit, Sammy. Answer your phone!_ He got in the car and started the engine before trying Sam's number again. This time it rang four times before bouncing to voicemail once more.

There was no help for it, he'd have to go back to the hotel and see if his brother was there. He turned the car out of the lot. He was no more than a few minutes away when his phone rang. He glanced at it and answered when he saw it was Sam.

One he'd hung up the phone, Dean thumped the steering wheel in frustration. He should never have left Sam alone with that doctor, Dean thought. He should have seen it from the start, how she'd been reeling his brother in. He called Bobby and cursed as it went to voicemail.

"Sam's in trouble, Bobby. I think the siren's worked her mojo on him. Give me a call as soon as you get this."

He tossed his phone into the passenger seat and grimaced, thinking hard. Sam was out of the picture, and even if Bobby had answered the phone, he was still several hours away. He needed backup. His thoughts almost immediately landed on Nick. He'd been helpful and seemed pretty trustworthy. He punched the agent's number into his phone.

* * *

It wasn't hard to find Nick's car in the lot. Standard government issue, Dean thought. He opened the car door and slid into the passenger seat. Nick gave him a warm smile of welcome. It was nice to be appreciated.

"She went in just a second ago," the agent told him.

"Nice work," Dean said.

"Should we follow her in?" Nick asked, sounding uncertain.

Dean shook his head. "No, no, no, I don't wanna tip her off. Let's just wait and see who she comes out with."

"So you think... what? She's drugging these guys?" Nick winced.

"Pretty much."

"Uh-huh," Nick said a little skeptically. Dean flicked a glance at him.

"I know how it sounds," he admitted.

Nick grinned at him. "You sure about that? 'Cause it sounds like crazy on toast. All these different strippers, they're magically the same girl? But then they're not strippers at all, it's Dr Quinn."

"It's kinda hard to explain, but I have my reasons and they're good ones, so you're just gonna have to trust me on 'em," Dean said. There was a moment of silence.

"Yeah. OK. I guess."

"Thank you," Dean said in surprise. "That's actually nice to hear." And it was. Not having to worry that someone's got your back? He'd missed that feeling. And dammit it, it should be Sam, but there was nothing he could do about that now. He pulled out a hip flask and took a swig, before offering it to Nick. The agent accepted it, took a mouthful and then handed it back. Dean took one more slug before recapping the flask.

"So let's say she is drugging her vics. How's she pulling that off?" Nick asked. Dean looked at him. The man really was quite attractive. And he seemed to be gazing at Dean in a way that was not entirely professional.

"She could be injecting them, you know, or passing the toxin through, uh," Dean broke off and swallowed. "Uh, physical contact." Nick was staring steadily at him. And Dean didn't want to stop looking back. Nick shifted closer, and slid one hand behind Dean's head. His fingers were trembling slightly and Dean swallowed again. Nick's face was really close now, his lips pink and soft-looking. Dean edged ever so slightly closer and Nick did not retreat. His eyes dropped to Dean's mouth and then his tongue poked out to moisten his lips. Dean's control snapped and he grabbed Nick and tugged him forward, crushing their mouths together. Nick groaned and opened his lips to Dean's tongue, hot and eager. Their tongues tangled and then with another groan of desire, Nick broke the kiss and leaned back.

"Or it could be her saliva…" he grinned at Dean. Dean gaped at him in consternation. "I should be your partner in this, Dean. You know you can't trust Sam. Not like you can trust me. In fact, I really feel like you should get him outta the way, so we can be together. Forever."

"Yeah," Dean said slowly. "Yeah, you're right." Nick swept a look down Dean's body and Dean shivered.

"Come on," Nick said. "Let's head back to the hotel."

* * *

Sam opened the hotel room door and stopped when he saw Munroe sat on Dean's bed. The covers were mostly piled on the floor and the room smelled unmistakably of sex and sweat. Sam's eyes widened in shock.

"Munroe? What are you doing here?" he said uncomfortably. He heard the sound of someone sneaking up behind him too late and he wasn't fast enough to stop the knife coming up to his throat.

"Dean?" he said in confusion. And then understanding dawned. "I gotta tell ya," Sam said to Munroe sarcastically, "You're one butt ugly stripper."

"Well, maybe," Munroe shrugged. "But I got exactly what I wanted. I got Dean."

"Dean, come on man, this isn't you. You can fight this. Let me go." Sam said urgently. Dean growled in his ear.

"Why don't you cut him? Just a little, on his neck right there." Munroe ordered. Dean sliced into the skin of Sam's neck without hesitation. _Oh, God._ "Dean's all mine."

"You poisoned him!" Sam yelled.

Munroe shook his head. "No. I gave him what he needed. And it wasn't some bitch in a G-string. It was someone he could trust. And now he loves me. He'd do anything for me. And I gotta tell you, Sam, that kind of devotion? I mean, watching someone kill for you? It's the best feeling in the world."

"Is that why you're slutting all over town?" Sam snarled.

"Ahh. I get bored, like we all do," Munroe said easily. "And I wanna fall in love again. And again...and again."

"I'll tell you what," Sam snarled. "I have fought some nasty sons of bitches, but you are one needy pathetic loser." Munroe got up and sauntered over to him, a lazy smile on his face.

"You won't feel that way in a minute," he said in a sultry tone. He grabbed Sam's face and kissed him savagely. Sam tried to resist for a moment, but then desire swept through him and before he knew it, he was gasping and shivering. Nick leaned back, delighted.

"So I know you two have a lot you wanna get off your chests. So why don't you discuss it? And whoever survives can be with me forever." He backed away from the brothers. Sam turned to face Dean.

"Well, I don't know when it happened. Maybe when I was in Hell. Maybe when I was staring right at you. But the Sam I knew, he's gone." Dean said.

It was like an ice pick in his gut. How could Dean say such a thing to him? "That so?" Sam said defiantly.

"And it's not the demon blood or the psychic crap. It's the little stuff. The lies. The secrets," Dean continued. A red haze began to descend over Sam's eyes.

"Oh, yeah?" he snapped. "What secrets?"

"The phone calls to Ruby for one."


	11. Chapter 11

Bobby swung the car into the hotel parking lot, the tires squealing in protest. Goddamn sirens! There were some monsters the boys really shouldn't fight, and a siren was definitely one of them. Both Sam and Dean had left multiple voicemail messages that made it clear what had happened. He hadn't seen his boys at odds like this since their tangle with that Trickster, a few years ago. He grabbed a bronze knife from the trunk and dashed into the hotel.

The building was old and the elevator was so slow Bobby felt like it was barely moving at all. When the doors finally did trundle open he was greeted with a tremendous crash. Shit! He broke into a run. As he rounded the corner, he could see Sam lying in a pile of wood and splinters and Dean standing over him with a fire ax.

"Tell me again how weak I am, Sam, huh?" he was snarling. "How I hold you back?" He swung the ax up over his head and Sam covered his face with his arm. Bobby jabbed Dean in the shoulder with the blade and Dean cried out in agony. The blond young man Bobby assumed was the siren began to run down the corridor. He raised the knife.

"No. NO!" he heard Sam yell. He ignored the boy and threw the knife with deadly accuracy. The blade sunk deep into his back and he screamed and then fell to the floor, dead.

* * *

Bobby handed Sam a soda and another to Dean. Sam gave a short laugh at the look of disdain on Dean's face.

"Soda?" his brother said incredulously.

"You boys are driving, aren't ya?" Bobby said piously. Dean rolled his eyes.

"Thanks, Bobby. You know, if you hadn't shown up when you did…" Sam said.

Bobby gave a shrug. "Done the same for me, more than once. Course, you coulda picked up the phone. Only took one call to figure out that Agent Nick Munroe wasn't real." Dean looked away and Sam shifted uncomfortably. "You boys gonna be OK?"

"Yeah, fine." Sam said as Dean said "Yeah, good." Bobby tipped his hat at them and headed back over to his car.

"See ya," he said. Then he turned back to face them. "You know, those sirens are nasty things. That it got to you, that's no reason to feel bad." He got in the car and drove away. Sam watched him silently for a moment.

"You gonna say goodbye to Cara?" Dean said suddenly.

"Nah," Sam said. "Not interested."

"Well, look at you. Love 'em and leave 'em." Dean said, grinning.

Sam eyed him nervously. "I uh…" Dean winced as though he knew what was going through his mind. "You and Nick…" Dean looked away. "Look, I'm not judging," Sam added. "It's just… I had no idea. That's all." Dean shifted uncomfortably but said nothing. "Dean, look, you know I didn't mean the things I said back there, right? That it was just the siren's spell talking?"

"Of course," Dean said too quickly. "Me too." It was a lie and they could both taste it.

"OK," Sam said finally. "So... so we're good?"

"Yeah, we're good." Dean said. He tugged the car door open and flopped into the driver's seat. Sam stood there for a moment before climbing into the passenger seat.

* * *

Bobby picked up the phone with a sigh and dialed Sam's number.

"What's up?" Sam asked but there was a strange note in his voice.

"Got an odd little case for you boys up in Montana," he said. "People have stopped dying."

"What do you mean, stopped dying?"

"I mean, even if they get shot or stabbed or whatever, they just keep on livin'! Some guy, Jim Jenkins, gets shot by a mugger. Gets up like nothing happened. Another guy, who was dying of terminal cancer, I mean the priest had given him the last rites and everything. Gets up, strolls out of the hospice. Really weird stuff. I don't know if it's Apocalypse-related but I thought maybe it needed checking out."

"No, no, no. You're right, it's definitely weird," Sam said, but he still sounded distracted.

"Well, that's all I got," Bobby said. "You boys keep me posted, OK?"

"OK, Bobby," Sam replied. "Thanks." He hung up and Bobby stared at the phone for a moment. Then it rang again, half startling him out of his skin. He looked at the caller ID and then answered.

"Rufus," he greeted the old hunter. "What's happening?"

"I got a really weird-ass case down here," Rufus said breathlessly.

"Oh yeah?" Bobby said, a little skeptically. After the last case he'd worked with Rufus, he was beginning to wonder if the older man was losing his grip. A 'werewolf' that had turned out to be just an actual wolf.

"Yeah," Rufus huffed. "I got a killer dress on my hands."

"A killer dress?" Bobby replied incredulously.

"Yes, a killer dress. Now stop stalling and get down here!"

"Fine," Bobby snapped. "Where are you?"

"Gary, Indiana." The phone went dead.

"You're welcome," Bobby told the air, before grabbing his journal and heading out the door.

* * *

Dean stared listlessly at the laptop, the words on the screen dancing in front of his eyes.. The motel door opened and Sam entered with a bag of fast food. He dumped the bag on the table and Dean dived in eagerly.

"Anything?" he asked between bites.

"That cancer survivor? He was clinically dead, his wife pulled the plug and now he's taking her out for their twentieth anniversary." Sam chewed on a few french fries, his face baffled.

"Any sign of a deal?" Dean prompted.

Sam shook his head. "No. What about you? Found anyone dying around here?"

"Not since Cole Griffith," Dean told him. He swivelled the laptop around so Sam could see the screen. "He dropped ten days ago. It was the last death I could find."

"Any memories of this case from before?" Sam asked tautly. Dean eyed him for a moment.

"Yeah," he admitted.

"OK, so what's the deal?"

"Well, there's no deals," Dean said. "No uh skeevy faith healers."

"Right," Sam said slowly.

"It's Alastair."

"Alastair," Sam said, surprised. "What's he doing?"

"I forget the details, but something about killing a reaper under a solstice moon and one broken seal, coming right up."

"OK, so how did we deal with it last time?" Sam asked him. Dean still had the feeling Sam wasn't fully on board with the whole time travel story but where else would he get this crap?

"Uh, astral projection. I asked Pamela to… oh shit."

"What?'

"That's how she got killed." Dean said softly.

"Fuck," Sam said, with feeling.

"Exactly. So this time we gotta come up with a different plan," Dean decided.

"OK, well why don't we just find Alastair and gank his ass?" Sam suggested with a grin.

"Music to my ears," Dean declared. "All right. Let's hit the road."

* * *

"You can't see them," Dean said, waving one hand vaguely at the outside of the funeral home. "But there's all kinds of symbols drawn on the outside of this building. Last time, we were ghosts, so we could see them."

"What kind of symbols?" Sam asked.

Dean shrugged. "Enochian. Angel-proofing."

"So Cas can't come and help us if this all goes south?" Sam asked, his mouth tightening.

"Since when do we need the cavalry to ride in anyway?" Dean snapped and Sam peered at him. Dean was sweating, and his skin was pale.

"Are you OK?"

"Yes, dammit. Let's go."

"Boys," Alastair drawled. "Find the place OK?"

Sam glared at the demon and stretched out one hand. Alastair shivered and his face grew concerned. "I'm still way more demon than you can handle," he insisted but it was clearly an effort.

"I've been practicing," Sam snarled. Dean grabbed his arm.

"No," he said urgently. "Please, Sam."

"Ah, Dean. Still clinging to that tattered morality of yours?" Alastair said. He flung out an arm and Sam shot backwards, slamming into the wall and slumping to the ground.

"Sam!"  
"He'll live," Alastair told him. "I just wanted some time to… reminisce."

"Yeah? I think I'll pass." Dean retorted.

"Dean," Alastair said sadly. "It really is a shame." Dean ignored him, eying the other demons at Alastair's back. "How about I make you a deal?"

"I'm done doing deals with demons," Dean said sharply.

"Oh no, no, no!" Alastair said, wagging a finger at him like he was a naughty schoolboy. "Not _that_ kind of a deal. The old-fashioned kind. You let me do my job here, break this seal, and I won't turn Sam inside-out."

"You won't," Dean said, projecting more confidence than he felt. "Lucifer wouldn't like it."

"My master can fix any damage I do," Alastair assured him. "Surely you don't think destiny can be so easily thwarted."

"I guess not," Dean said ruefully, earning him a frown. "My offer is this: nothing."

"I suppose you think that's funny?" Alastair sighed.

"I'm a funny guy," Dean told him, and then his eyes rolled up in his head and he passed out. Alastair looked down at him in alarm.

"Sir?" a demon behind him said hesitantly.

"I don't know," Alastair snapped. "Tie them up before they wake."

* * *

Sam awoke to find himself tied to a chair. Nothing new about that, he thought. He turned his head to see Dean similarly bound and completely unconscious. Well, shit. What the fuck had happened? Alastair was chanting and had his back to them both. Sam thought furiously.

"Sammy?" Dean groaned.

"Dean!" Sam hissed. "What the Hell happened?"

Dean looked around groggily. "Uh, this wasn't supposed to happen."

"Yeah, no shit. Now what?"

Dean's head came up and he stared at Sam, his mouth tugged down unhappily. "There are two reapers in that circle. Alastair's gonna kill them both, unless you can disrupt the circle."

Sam's eyebrows dived over his forehead. "Disrupt? You mean, use my super-evil psychic powers?"

"Yes, Sam," Dean said, sounding almost defeated. "Drop the chandelier on the circle. Tessa will do the rest."

Sam's mouth twisted but he took a deep breath and concentrated on the light fitting. It shook from side to side for a moment and then came crashing down. There was a sudden blinding flash of light and they both cried out. Sam felt his bonds fall away and he looked up to see Cas looking down at Dean with an oddly tender expression.

"Where's Alastair?" he demanded.

"Don't worry, boy. I've got him." Uriel said icily.

"Dean?" Cas said, kneeling down beside the hunter. Dean gave him a wan smile. "What did you do?"

"Barbiturates," Dean said, slurring a little. Sam's head whipped around.

"What?"

"It was insurance, OK?"

"I don't understand." Sam said, panic clawing at his throat.

"Dean's my charge," Cas explained. "If he was dying, I'd be called to his side. The Enochian symbols wouldn't be able to stop me."

"So heal him already!" Sam cried.

"He has to give his consent," Cas said. Dean gave a weak laugh. "And so far he is refusing."

Sam's head began to hurt. "Why? Do you want to die? I don't understand."

"It's simple," Dean wheezed. "I should never have come back from Hell. None of this would have happened if I'd just stayed there."

"That wasn't your decision," Cas said crisply.

"Maybe not. But this is. I'm done, Cas. I'm tired. If I'm gone, bang, no more Apocalypse."

"No!" Sam yelled. "How does your death stop anything?"  
Dean looked directly into his eyes. "Because my dying wish is for you to stop what you're doing with Ruby and leave Lilith alone. Leave her alive and Lucifer cannot rise. End of."

"You son of a bitch," Sam breathed. Cas turned to look at him. "You coward."

"Nah," Dean said, his breathing seriously labored now. "Promise me, Sam."

"Dean," the angel said suddenly, grabbing the older Winchester by the lapels. "Don't do this, Dean. Please. I can't…"

"Sorry, Cas," Dean said. "I am, really. But this is for the best."

"Ugh," Uriel said. "Can't he just die already?"  
Cas stood up, his eyes blazing. "Uriel, you go too far. Dean is my charge and _he is dying!_ "

Uriel gave a heavily put upon sigh. "You ask too much, Castiel." Sam looked at him in confusion, and then Uriel placed one hand on Dean's head and the other on Cas. Dean slithered to the floor in a heap.

"I will not forget, brother," Cas said. He knelt down and cradled Dean's head in his hands, and Sam could tell that his brother's breathing was evening out.

"Did he just heal him?"

"No," Cas said. "I did. Uriel just removed the restriction that was stopping me."  
"Yeah, explain that again would you?"

Cas looked over his shoulder. "Dean was my charge, which places certain restrictions on what I can and cannot do without his permission."

"OK…"

"Now… I am his guardian. It is my responsibility to keep him alive, no matter what the cost."

"I'm not sure I understand the difference," Sam confessed.

"It is the difference between a bodyguard and a parent," Uriel said. Sam didn't find that very helpful. "As Castiel's charge, Dean was no more than a… contract. Now they are linked. Bonded." His face was crumpled with distaste.

"You don't approve," Sam observed. "And yet you did it anyway."

"Castiel is my brother," Uriel said, a strange sorrow in his voice. "His pain is mine."

* * *

Lilith was pissed. And, as Ruby had observed before, it made her creative. She looked at the remains of the human on the ground.

"So, what now?" she asked. Lilith rolled her eyes.

"We keep working on the plan. The real Colt has to be out there somewhere."

Ruby nodded. "The last person we know for sure had the Colt was Bela Talbot. She was supposed to give it to you. But she gave you this fake. So, that's where we start looking."

"Bela's in Saul's division?" Lilith said idly. "You could go back and talk to her." Ruby looked down at her hands.

"Sam's dependency on me grows. I'm not sure taking a leave of absence right now is smart." Lilith looked displeased but didn't insist. "What's wrong, Lilith? It's not just being double crossed over the Colt."

The little girl Lilith was possessing jerked to its feet unsteadily, it's head lolling at an unnatural angle.

"Oh," Ruby said. "You broke your meatsuit. Is Jorge getting you another one?" Lilith gave a dismissive gesture Ruby took to be a yes. "So, what happened?"

"Alastair's been captured by the angels," Lilith said angrily.

"You hate Alastair," Ruby pointed out. "Who cares what the angels do?"

"That's not the point," Lilith snapped. "The point is that it wasn't supposed to happen. Like him or not, Alastair has his role to play in all this. Our master's time to rise is upon us and we all need to be ready."

"So what do the angels want with Alastair anyway?" Ruby asked. Lilith's perfect pink bow of a mouth turned downwards.

"Someone's been murdering angels. And we have no idea who it is. They'll torture Alastair to try and find out, no doubt."

"Alastair can handle anything the angels can throw at him. I might not like him, but he's not weak," Ruby opined.

"Alastair doesn't know anything," Lilith told her. "This isn't us. It's internal strife. Heaven's on the brink of civil war."

Ruby gaped at her. "Civil war? Why?"

Lilith shook her head in frustration. "I _don't know._ And you know how I feel about not knowing things."

"I'm on it," Ruby promised.

* * *

Back in the motel, Sam watched as Cas fussed over Dean to the point where Sam was sure his brother would snap at the angel. But curiously, he didn't. He bore the angel's ministrations with remarkable good humor and Sam began to get suspicious. So when Cas finally left to go meet up with Uriel, Sam seized the opportunity.

"All right, out with it," he demanded. "What's going on here?"

Dean gaped at him. "I don't know what you mean."

"I've never seen you act like this, putting up with someone fussing all over you like that. Normally you last about five minutes before complaining about chick-flick moments."

"I was feeling guilty, OK?" Dean said irritably, looking down at the floor. "I figured letting Cas mother me a bit was only fair."

"Guilty?" Sam almost shrieked. "You pull a stunt like that on me again and I'll kill you myself!"

"No, you won't," Dean said, giving his brother a haunted stare and Sam shrank back.

"Dean," Sam started and then coughed as his voice broke alarmingly. "Dean, were you really serious about dying back there?"

"Sure," Dean said easily, although the look in his eyes said otherwise. "It seemed like a perfect solution, actually."

"You're unbelievable," Sam told him, his temper building. "You know what I went through while you were in Hell. Why would you do that to me again?"

"Because I am trying to stop you making the same mistakes as last time. You wanna know where this path leads? Once Lucifer is sprung from his Cage? Death, and lots of it. And all of it on you. So in the end, you threw yourself into the Pit in order to trap Lucifer again."

"Why would I do that? I don't understand how me going to Hell traps Satan!"

"I told you," Dean said tiredly. "You're his true vessel. I'm Michael's. Angels need permission before they can possess a host."

"I remember Cas explaining that," Sam interrupted.

"Right. Well, you said yes to Lucifer in order for us to trap him back in the Cage."

"Wow," Sam said.

"Yeah. So I'm thinking maybe, if we can head this whole shindig off before Lucifer escapes, you don't have to sacrifice yourself." Dean rolled his shoulders and stood up. "I've no interest in being a martyr."

"Sure looks like it from here," Sam retorted.

"No, Sam. It's my job to keep you safe, that's all. Anyway I can."

* * *

"How's our guest?" Uriel asked when Cas emerged from the room where they were keeping Alastair.

"Uncommunicative," Cas said shortly.

"We need answers, Castiel," Uriel said.

"Yes, well demon interrogation was never my forte," Cas snapped.

"What's the matter?" Uriel said. "You don't seem very happy. Capturing Alastair was a turning-point, don't you see?"

Cas shook his head. "It's not Alastair that's making me feel this way." He looked at Uriel for a moment. "You surprised me, in that funeral home. Helping me save Dean's life."

"So that's what this is about," Uriel said. "I should have known. You know who he is. Letting him die would have been awkward to explain."

"Perhaps," Cas agreed. "But it's hardly beyond the wit of our leadership to resurrect him, should that be necessary."

Uriel eyed him for a moment. "Why do you think we were sent to raise Dean Winchester up from perdition in the first place?"

"You said it yourself," Cas replied, eyebrows diving over his nose. "He's Michael's True Vessel."

"Indeed," Uriel agreed. "And yet, a vessel doesn't need a soul in order for an angel to inhabit it. But an army of angels were sent to harrow Hell, just to save one flawed human soul. So I'll ask you again, why?"

Cas swallowed. He had no idea what Uriel was getting at. The more he thought about it, the less sense it made. "I…"

"Dean must have another purpose," Uriel declared. "Not just to serve as Michael's vessel. That's the only explanation I can come up with."

"OK," Cas agreed. "That's possible. Does it matter?"

"Yes," Uriel intoned and Cas felt cold suddenly. "I had no intention of getting involved. Let the stupid mud monkey kill himself if that's what he wants. But I was informed that this was not to be allowed."

"Michael ordered you to upgrade me to Dean's Guardian?"

"No," Uriel said. "Joshua did."

Cas stared at Uriel with open astonishment. "Joshua. You don't think…"

"I don't know what to think," Uriel said, sounding troubled.

* * *

"You promised not to kill me," Ruby said without preamble. Uriel glared at her but nodded stiffly.

"I might even keep it," he told her.

"There are rumors," Ruby said. "About a civil war in Heaven."

Uriel narrowed his eyes at her. "Where did the likes of you hear that?"

"All of Hell is talking about it," Ruby told him. "Is it true?"

"Why would I tell you that?" Uriel said dismissively. "That's not why we're here."

"Well, there's the thing," Ruby said. "Why did you want to meet? You're not exactly on my Christmas card list."

"I know what you're up to," Uriel told her. "I know about Lilith being the last seal."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Ruby denied. _Shit! Nobody was supposed to know about this._

"Spare me," Uriel said. "I'm not planning to interfere. You want Lucifer to rise. So do I."

Ruby gaped at him. "I don't understand," she admitted. "Aren't you supposed to want to stop the Apocalypse?"

"Bah!" Uriel snarled. "Chasing around, doing the bidding of the mud monkeys? Having to deal with slime like you? Better that we cleanse the earth in holy fire and end this charade."

Ruby gave him a considering glance. "Are you thinking about… switching sides?" she asked slyly.

"No!" Uriel snapped. "I'm a loyal servant of Heaven. I just want a meeting with Crowley, at the barn."

"You want to meet Crowley, in a barn in the middle of nowhere," Ruby said incredulously. "Where coincidentally, Anna the ex-angel got her Grace back and Dean Winchester was injured by a magical weapon."

"Indeed," Uriel said. "Now, can you arrange the meeting or not?"

"Fine," She growled. "I'm not making any promises. Crowley will decide if he chooses to meet with you or not. Give me a way to contact you and I'll be in touch."

Uriel's mouth twitch and then he handed her a business card. "Call my cell," he told her. And with a burst of wingbeats he was gone.

"The mud monkeys aren't so bad when their technology suits your purposes," Ruby muttered.

* * *

The knocking at her door was becoming insistent.

"Spare a thought for the blind woman, would ya?" Pamela yelled as she made her way to the door. Her fingers automatically sought the peephole cover and then she sighed. "Who is it?"

"We've never met," a deep voice said. "My name is Uriel."

"Uriel, huh? You're an angel?"

"You've heard of me," Uriel said, sounding displeased.

"Yeah, I have. What do you want?"

"I'd really prefer not to have this conversation through this door," Uriel said mildly.

"I'd really prefer not to have a conversation with an angel at all," Pamela retorted. She yelped as the door unlocked itself with a loud click and Uriel pushed the door open. "Goddamn it!"

"Hmm," Uriel said. He grabbed Pamela by the arm and frogmarched her into her living room. Shoving her down on the couch, he perched on the edge of a chair and even though she couldn't see him, she could feel him glaring at her. Her fingers touched the cool glass of her cellphone screen. She'd gotten pretty good at manipulating the thing without eyes, maybe she could get a message to someone.

"So," she said brightly. "What can I do for you?"

"I know you have no love for us," Uriel said. "Quite understandable, of course. Nonetheless, I need your assistance."

Pamela frowned at him. "I can't imagine what for."

"I'm looking for the Winchesters. They're off the radar," Uriel explained.

"What makes you think I know where they are?" Pamela said, puzzled. "They show up from time to time, but I don't keep tabs on them."

"No," Uriel agreed. "But that text message you just sent will bring them running, won't it?"


	12. Chapter 12

Bobby's phone buzzed twice and he picked it up with a groan. If this was Rufus again with more of his wardrobe malfunctions… He blinked. Two messages, one from Garrett who he hadn't seen in a decade at least and one from Pamela. He opened her message and swore.

_angel at my door_

He dialed Dean's number. "Dean?"

"Yeah," the boy said sleepily. "Whassup?"

"There's an angel at Pamela's house. Where are you?"

"Uh… Sam, where are we?" Bobby could hear Sam talking indistinctly. "We're an hour away from you."

"Well, take a detour. Pamela needs help."

"On it," Dean said and hung up. Bobby growled and ambled off to find his boots.

"Drive faster," Dean said and Sam cast him a concerned look.

"The angels aren't going to hurt Pamela," Sam insisted.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Tell that to her."

Sam winced and pressed down harder on the accelerator. By the time they made it to Pamela's house it was dark. The door stood open and Dean drew his weapon and made a couple of gestures to Sam to indicate his intention to go in the front and for Sam to circle around the rear. Sam shook his head. No way was he letting Dean go bursting in there, guns blazing. Dean glared at him and then crept inside. As soon as they crossed the threshold, a strange feeling swept over Sam, like static electricity. He looked at Dean but his brother didn't seem to have noticed anything unusual.

"Don't you feel that?" he asked. Dean frowned at him and gave a shrug. "It's like a storm is coming."

Dean looked out the door at the perfectly clear sky, the stars twinkling and the moon a silver crescent. "Nope."

Sam sighed and opened the living room door and flipped on the lights. He started when he saw the Uriel stood there.

"Winchester and Winchester," Uriel said, wrinkling his nose as if they were something stuck to his shoe. "You are needed."

"Needed? We just got back from needed," Dean snapped.

Uriel bared his teeth at him. "I just saved your life. Now, you mind your tone with me."

"No, Cas saved my life. So you mind your damn tone with us. Stop pushing us around like chess pieces for five freaking minutes!"

"We raised you out of hell for our purposes," Uriel said, with an odd look on his face. Sam wondered what it meant. His brother was on a tear.

"Yeah, what were those again? What exactly did you want from me?" Dean demanded.

"Start with gratitude." Uriel advised him. "I don't care what your problem is. Seven angels have been murdered, all of them from our garrison. The last one was killed tonight."

"Demons? How they doing it?" Sam asked. Dean had paled and he looked like he might pass out.

"We don't know," Uriel said.

"I'm sorry, but what do you want us to do about it? I mean, a demon with the juice to ice angels has to be out of our league, right?" Sam asked.

"We can handle the demons, thank you very much," Uriel said acidly. "Once we find whoever it is."

"So you need our help hunting a demon?" Sam said, even more confused.

No. We have Alastair, remember?" Uriel reminded him. Dean swayed in a disturbing way and Sam reached out one hand to steady him. "But he won't talk. Alastair's will is very strong. We've arrived at an impasse."

"Yeah, well, he's like a black belt in torture," Dean said faintly. "I mean, you guys are out of your league."

"That's why we've come to his student. You happen to be the most qualified interrogator we've got." Uriel said smoothly. Dean looked down at the floor, as if he was hoping it might swallow him up.

"Don't ask him to do this," Sam begged. "Look at him."

"Who said anything about asking?" Uriel said, crossing the room to stand beside Dean. Sam blinked and Uriel and Dean were gone.

"Damn it!" Sam swore.

"Got that right," Pamela observed. Sam turned around to see her lying on the couch.

"Oh, God, Pamela. Are you OK?"

"Yeah," she admitted. "That Uriel asshole was rude but he didn't hurt me. Just threatened real good."  
"I'm sorry," Sam said.

"You should be," Pamela said, but there was no heat in it.

* * *

Crowley wandered around the barn, soaking up the curious atmosphere. The message had been weird and cryptic, even for Ruby. Meeting at a barn at midnight? He felt like he was in a bad TV show. He looked down at himself. He didn't exactly fit the mold of a naive teenage girl, however.

"You came," a voice boomed from the door and Crowley turned around.

"A angel ambush?" he said tiredly. "Really, Ruby?"

"I'm not here to fight," Uriel said. "I… need your help."

Crowley stared at him in naked astonishment. "I don't understand."

Uriel beckoned to him and pointed to the back wall of the barn. Crowley waved a hand to light the corner and gasped at the wave of hate and malevolence that washed over him as he saw the knife, wedged into the wall almost as though it had grown there.

"What the Hell is that?" he wondered aloud.

"A very nasty thing," Uriel said unhelpfully. "A knife made from the essence of the Darkness herself."

"OK," Crowley said, like that meant anything to him. But there was no way he was going to expose his ignorance in front of an angel. "So, what do you want me to do about it?"

"The Blade is special," Uriel told him. "It has tremendous capacity for corruption. When it was in Heaven, an archangel had to place careful protections on it to prevent it from tainting everything around it. Those protections eventually failed and the Blade returned to earth."

"Why would the archangel protecting it let that happen?" Crowley asked curiously. Uriel stiffened and there was his answer. "One of your archangels is missing? Or dead? Careless."

"It's immaterial," Uriel said. "What's important is that this Blade cannot go back to Heaven. I fear what it might do there. Lucifer has the power to constrain it."

"How do you know he won't use it in the war with Heaven?" Crowley asked reasonably.

"He might," Uriel admitted. "But he'd be a fool. He knows why it was locked away, how dangerous it is."

"I feel like I'm missing all the best parts of this story," Crowley complained. "All right. I'll take it to him."

"No," Uriel said. "I want you to arrange safe passage for me. I have… other matters I need to discuss."

Crowley nodded at him. He had no idea what as going on, but this Apocalypse business wasn't turning out at all the way he'd expected.

* * *

Sam opened the motel door and stepped aside to let Ruby enter. Her entire body language screamed how unhappy she was. She wrinkled her nose.

"I can still smell them on you. Seriously, Sam, I'm not exactly dying to tangle with angels again," she snarled.

"I need you to find out where they took Dean," Sam told her.

Ruby peered at him. "Not sure I see the problem. You know they have Alastair strung up six ways from Sunday. Dean cuts himself a slice, Al's reduced to a quivering heap, and the good guys get the goods. What's wrong with that?"

"He can't do it," Sam said firmly.

Ruby rolled her eyes. "Look, I get it. You don't want him going all torture master again."

"No. I mean, he can't do it. He can't get the job done," Sam said, shaking his head. "Something happened to him downstairs, Ruby. He's not what he used to be. He's not strong enough. And he's been saying some crazy things. I think he's losing his mind."

"And you're saying you are strong enough?" Ruby said skeptically.

"I will be," Sam asserted. "With your help."

"OK," Ruby said. "Let's say I help. What then?"

"Easy," Sam shrugged. "We go do what my brother can't."

He watched as she put the spell together, her movements tight and controlled. Ruby was upset about something, but he didn't think it was about him.

"You want to tell me what's wrong?" he asked. She raked a hand through her hair.

"It's nothing. Internal Hellish politics. I'm dancing around trying not to raise Lilith's suspicions, and Alastair getting captured by angels is actually good news for me. Lilith will be concentrating on that problem instead of what I'm up to. But I'm worried that sooner or later she's going to catch up with me."

"We'll be ready for her," Sam promised. "And then we'll kill her."

Ruby smiled at him. "OK. So let's get this show on the road." She tilted the lit candle to the edge of the map.

* * *

Walking through Hell with an angel by his side was not the most comfortable stroll he'd ever taken, Crowley thought. Demons hissed as they went by, and Uriel struggled to keep his expression neutral.

"We should have blasted this place to smithereens long ago," he snarled.

"Yeah?" Crowley said, faking nonchalance. Actually he was terrified Uriel might give in to that urge. The angel's reputation was fearsome and here he was, escorting the destroyer of Sodom and Gomorrah right to Lucifer's Cage. He must be out of his mind. Uriel carried the Shadow Blade in a strange ivory box that made Crowley feel vaguely queasy.

The hordes of demons thinned out as they approached the Cage. Lucifer was almost invisible inside, only the glow of his red eyes could be seen in one corner.

"Brother," he said in a sibilant hiss. "How… delightful."

"Lucifer," Uriel intoned. Crowley backed away. He wasn't a coward, just pragmatic.

"You've brought me a gift," Lucifer said, a shadowy hand reaching for the box Uriel carried.

"I need you to keep it safe," Uriel explained. "It's not secure in Heaven any more."

"Very well," Lucifer agreed. "Tell me, was this Zachariah's idea or Michael's?" Uriel visibly started and Lucifer began to laugh. "I know my brothers, Uriel."

"Michael," Uriel said begrudgingly.

"I see," Lucifer said, his voice swirling around the Pit. "How go the preparations for the Apocalypse?"

"We'll be ready," Uriel stated. Crowley narrowed his eyes at the angel's back. Uriel didn't sound concerned about Lucifer escaping the Cage. In fact, his answer rather suggested that Heaven fully expected it to happen.

"How many of our brothers and sisters have you slaughtered in your mad rush for the End Times?" Lucifer was asking. He sounded almost outraged.

"No more than was necessary," Uriel said. "But there has been resistance."

"Michael's a fool," Lucifer told him. "But it matters little to me as long as I can get free of this accursed Cage!"

"Don't worry," Uriel assured him. "All the pieces are falling into place."

"Give Michael my love," Lucifer said mockingly. "And give the Blade to Crowley."

Uriel stiffened and tucked the box closer to his body. "I was instructed to give it only to you."

"Crowley is my right hand man," Lucifer said patiently. "Giving it to him is the same as giving it to me. And you could have saved yourself a trip downstairs."

"Maybe," Uriel rumbled. "But I had to see for myself that you were still on board with the plan."

"You wound me," Lucifer laughed. "Is Michael really so desperate to face me?"

"We're tired," Uriel said. "Our Father has been gone so long, and there's been no end in sight. So yes, we wanted to hurry things along. We've spent centuries crafting the vessels' bloodlines."

"Indeed," Lucifer said. "Pity mine's so prissy."

"You'll bring him around," Uriel told him. "You always do."

"I _do,_ don't I?" Lucifer almost purred.

* * *

The sounds from the other room were gut-wrenchingly awful. Castiel was a soldier, and a good one but what they'd asked Dean Winchester to do tore at him and his sense of self. Alastair might be a demon but they were _angels._ And there was nothing very angelic about torture. The lights flickered suddenly and Castiel looked around. He wasn't surprised when the bulb exploded and he heard the sound of wingbeats.

"Anna," he said, not turning around.

"Hello, Castiel," Anna said.

He turned around to look at her and gasped. "Your human body-"

"It was destroyed, I know. But I guess I'm sentimental. Called in some old favors and…" Anna broke off as the screams from the other room became louder.

"You shouldn't be here," Castiel told her. "We still have orders to kill you."

"Somehow I don't think you'll try," Anna said, her tone strangely bitter. "Where's Uriel?"

"He went to receive revelation."

"Right,' Anna said sarcastically. Castiel frowned at her. She might have regained her Grace but she'd apparently held onto many of the human characteristics she'd acquired. "Why are you making Dean do this?"

"He's doing God's work," Castiel said loftily.

She sneered at him. "Torturing? That's God's work? Stop him, Cas, please. Before you ruin the one real weapon you have."

"Who are we to question the will of God?" Castiel replied. But his eyes were troubled and Anna could see his doubt.

"Unless this isn't his will," she pressed.

"Then where do the orders come from?" Castiel challenged.

"I don't know. One of our superiors, maybe, but not him." Anna suggested. Castiel paced, letting her words sink in.

"And why are you doing this?"

"Because in another life, I might have had something with Dean. But you were in the way," she said angrily.

"I don't know what you mean," Castiel told her. "How was I in the way?"

"Poor, oblivious Castiel!" she mocked. "Dean Winchester's in love with you, and you can't even see it."

"You're insane," Castiel said, horrified. "Anna, what you're saying isn't only impossible, it's forbidden."

"Lots of things are forbidden," Anna said irritably. "Sometimes that's part of the attraction."

Castiel shook his head at her sternly. The air was rent with more of Alastair's screams.

"The father you love. You think he wants this? You think he'd ask this of you? You think this is righteous?" Anna snapped. Castiel looked away, unable to meet that judgemental gaze. "What you're feeling? It's called doubt." She reached out to grab his hand. "These orders are wrong and you know it. But you can do the right thing. You're afraid, Cas. I was too. But together, we can still-"

Castiel tore his hand away from her's as if it burned. "Together?" he said, sounding revolted. "I am _nothing_ like you. You _fell_. Go."

"Cas."

"Go." Castiel growled and she fluttered off. He listened to the yells of anguish coming from Alastair and covered his face with his hands.

* * *

"You know, it was supposed to be your father," Alastair rasped. Dean ignored him, pouring out more holy water. "He was supposed to bring it on. But, in the end, it was you."

"I know," Dean said, unconcerned. He shook some salt onto the blade of Ruby's demon-killing knife.

"You know?" Alastair said uncertainly. Dean tried not to react but he realized that for the first time he truly had the demon on the back foot.

"Yeah," he said. "I broke the first seal, started the whole Apocalypse shindig."

"And it is written that the first seal shall be broken when a righteous man sheds blood in hell. As he breaks, so shall it break." Alastair quoted. "But you knew?"

"Not at the time," Dean admitted. "But I know now."

"Well, I admit I'm surprised," Alastair said. "I thought this would be more of a shock."

Dean knew what was coming next and he was ready.

"But even if the demons do win…" he said, looking down at the knife. "You won't be there to see it." He whirled around, and Alastair was there behind him out of the chains. Just like last time. But unlike last time, Dean was ready and he thrust the knife into Alastair, directly into his heart. And then he withdrew it and thrust it again and again into the demon's body, yelling incoherently.

The next thing he knew, Cas was pulling him off Alastair's remains. "Dean," the angel said urgently. " _Dean!_ He's dead. It's over."

Dean drew in a shuddering breath and then curled into the angel's arms. Cas hesitated for a second, Anna's words echoing in his brain. Then he dismissed them as nonsense and hugged the hunter close, letting him sob out his anger and frustration.

Sam and Ruby arrived to see Cas with Dean curled on his lap, the angel's face impossibly sad.

"What happened?" Sam asked in amazement at the sight of Alastair's mangled meatsuit.

"I don't know," Cas said heavily. "Alastair got free, but Dean was ready for him. But I don't think he killed him. I suspect the demon smoked out of there, leaving Dean to kill his vessel."

"Shit," Sam swore. "Did he at least get the answers you need?" Cas made a helpless gesture towards Dean's weeping form. Sam closed his eyes.

"Great," Ruby said sarcastically. "What a fucking mess."

Castiel looked up, his eyes afire with rage. "Get her away from me," he warned Sam. Sam took him at his word and tugged Ruby away.

"Come on," he said. "Let's try and track Alastair down."

"Ugh," Ruby said. "Fine."

Cas looked down at Dean, who'd begun to quieten. "Dean?"

"Cas," Dean said. "I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Cas said. "I'm the one who should apologize. I should never have asked you to do that."

"It's OK," Dean said. "I wasn't exactly honest with you either. I already knew the answer. I just wanted a chance to gut that son-of-a-bitch this time."

Cas stiffened in horror. "You already know the answers?" he echoed hollowly.

"Yeah. But you're not gonna like it. You probably wouldn't even believe it, if I hadn't let this play out. How do you think Alastair got free? I didn't let him go."

"No demon should have been able to spring that trap," Cas mused. Then his eyes widened. "You think this was an angel?"

"Yeah, it was." Dean said tiredly. He nuzzled closer into Cas's neck. "It was Uriel." Cas let go of him and pushed away, his face appalled.

"I know you've never liked Uriel," he said. "But what you're suggesting is blasphemy."

Dean shrugged. "It's true. Why would I lie about it?"

"Anna said…" Cas gulped. "Anna said you were… emotionally compromised."

Dean gave a vacant laugh. "Anna said no such thing, she doesn't talk like that. What did she really say?"

"That you were in love with me," Cas said in a low voice. "I told her that it was not only impossible but forbidden."

"Ah, well," Dean said. "I don't know about impossible, but just because it's not allowed doesn't mean it doesn't happen."

Cas gaped at him. "Are you saying it's true?"

Dean gave him a bitter smile. "Yes. And no."

"I don't understand," the angel confessed.

"I'm in love with an angel, called Cas. But he's not you. He hasn't been you in a really long time. That's the guy I love. You, you're this strange two-dimensional version of Cas. No depth, no feeling. Like a robot."

"Dean, I… I don't know what to say."  
"I know. I don't know what to say either. Or what to do. I'm terrified, Cas. I'm scared out of my mind. Going through this the first time was terrible. But we got through it. This time, I feel like I'm fucking everything up. It's spinning out of my control and yet I can't push Sam out of the same path he followed last time. I just want to save my brother, Cas. I'd give up anything to be able to do that. Even you."

Cas regarded him solemnly. "Perhaps some future version of me would find that hurtful," he said after a moment's consideration. "But as you say, that is not me. You have to deal with me as I am now."

Dean eyed him uncertainly. "I have hurt you, haven't I? Dammit, I didn't mean to. This is what I mean. Knowing the future makes it harder to change, not easier. Fuck."

Cas smiled at him and his heart flipped over. "Maybe. And yes, what you said did hurt. But not too much. I forgive you." He stood up and offered his hand to Dean. "Come on," he said. "We have work to do."

* * *

Ruby regarded Alastair's new vessel steadily. "Nice threads," she commented.

Alastair looked down at the toned, tanned body of the Australian underwear model he'd possessed. He preferred older, more intelligent meatsuits, but he'd been in a hurry.

"It will do for now," he said acidly. "Now, where are we?"

"It's confirmed," Ruby told him. "Heaven's on the brink of civil war. Angels killing angels." Alastair gasped, genuinely shocked.

"My word," he said. "That's… unbelievable."

"God's AWOL, and the leadership have dissolved into internecine squabbles. Not so unlike Hell, really."

"Maybe," Alastair conceded. "But at least we have a sense of decorum, instead of fighting it out in the open where the humans can see."

"It's not our problem," Ruby said.

"Perhaps," Alastair said. But he looked troubled. "Did you arrange the little visit to Hell for that angel?"

"Uriel? Yes, I managed to arrange something. But Uriel's days are numbered. Castiel knows what he's been doing."

"It's not important. He's not important. That meeting was the crucial thing, and now it's done. You've done well, Ruby. It will not be forgotten."

"It had better not be," Ruby said.

Crowley turned the knife over in his hands, admiring the craftsmanship. Simmons, one his favorite demon minions, peered at it curiously. She was wearing a perky young woman who was easy on the eye, even if not really Crowley's taste.

"What is it?" she said in a reverent whisper.

"I have no idea," Crowley admitted. "I've never seen anything like it before. But can't you feel the… darkness in it?"

"Yes," Simmons said. "It's extraordinary. Did the master make it, perhaps?"

Crowley shook his head. "I doubt it. Despite everything, Lucifer is still an angel. No, this has another origin."

"The blade is obsidian?" Simmons asked. "That means it's old."

"Not necessarily," Crowley said. "The humans still make ritual daggers out of obsidian and other stones. But I think it is old. Older than me, certainly. And not human made, either."

"Have you… tested it?" Simmons said carefully. Crowley grinned at her.

"Oh yes," he said happily. "I stabbed Montague with it."

"Alastair's newest pet?" Simmons gasped. "Oh, he's not going to be pleased. So what happened?"

"Nothing. Bounced off his skin like it was rubber." Crowley laughed. "I've even tried it on myself."

"Oh," Simmons said, disappointed.

"So I tried it on a human instead," Crowley continued. "That was much more entertaining." He snapped his fingers and two demons dragged an unconscious man into the room. Black veins spider-webbed his face and his eyes were purpling bruises. Simmons bounced over to him and examined him.

"My lord," she breathed. "What's happening to him?"

"No idea," Crowley said. "But it's fun to watch."

"Look at you," she said affectionately. "You're like a kid with a new toy."

"I am," Crowley agreed. "Now, let's round up some more test subjects."


	13. Chapter 13

The street was covered with snow and the air held the icy bite of more to come. Castiel looked around, and sighed. "Anna. Anna, please." The streetlight flickered and he looked up. Then he turned around slowly.

"Decided to kill me after all?" Anna said bitterly.

"I'm alone," Castiel told her.

"What do you want from me, Castiel?" Anna snapped. Castiel eyed her, weighing his next words carefully.

"I'm considering disobedience," he said finally.

"Good," Anna said approvingly.

"No, it isn't. For the first time, I feel…" Castiel waved his hands, unable to put words to how he felt.

"It gets worse," Anna said unsympathetically. "Choosing your own course of action is confusing, terrifying." She put her hand on his shoulder and he looked at it, repelled. She dropped it again.

"That's right. You're too good for my help. I'm just trash. A walking blasphemy." She turned and started walking away.

"Anna," Castiel said. She stopped. "I don't know what to do. Please tell me what to do."

"What changed your mind?" she asked him. He started.

"I don't…" he started and she glared at him. "I asked Dean about what you said." Anna made a sort of choking sound that he didn't recognize for a second. "Are you laughing at me?" he asked incredulously.

"No!" she chortled. "OK, yes, I am. Really, Castiel? You just rocked up to Dean Winchester and asked if he was in love with you. Oh, oh, oh." She took a moment to compose herself. "What did he say?"

"He said yes. And no. That he was in love with me, but that I am not the person he is in love with yet. Or something like that. It was very confusing."

"Ah," Anna said sagely. "Has he told you about the time travel?"

"Yes."

"Well, there's your answer. He and I talked about this, when we thought I might die. He told me the whole sorry tale. You're going to have to be brave, Cas."

"Don't call me that," Castiel said.

'OK," she said. "I'm sorry, Castiel. I can't tell you what to do. I don't have the answers. Nobody does. It's time to think for yourself. But, I think he's worth it." And with that, she vanished.

* * *

Sam watched his brother swallow another shot of whiskey and sighed. He'd ignored three different women who'd flirted with him, which meant Dean was in a really bad place.

"You wanna talk about it?" he offered.

Dean cast him a disdainful look. "Not really," he growled.

"I'm only trying to help," Sam told him.

"I know," Dean said. "But you can't, not with this. I'm sorry, Sam." He pushed away from the bar and headed for the door. "Are you gonna hang out here?"

"Yeah," Sam said. "Just for a while. I'll see you back at the motel."

He returned his attention to his empty beer bottle and signalled the bartender for another.

"Nobody so beautiful should ever look so sad," a voice said in a lilting Irish brogue.

Sam looked up to see a tall man with long black hair, finely sculpted features and an infectious smile slide onto the bar stool next to him.

"Louis," the man said, holding out one elegant, long-fingered hand.

Sam shook it and shivered at the contact. Louis's blue eyes were bright and he licked his lips nervously. That nervousness increased when Louis blatantly watched his mouth as he did so.

"So, uh, you a local?" Sam asked stupidly.

Louis laughed at him. "The accent gave me away?" he asked, clearly amused.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry. Stupid question," Sam muttered, looking away. Louis placed his hand on Sam's arm. "Oh, sorry, sorry. I'm Sam."

"Nice to meet you, Sam," Louis said. "You look like you've had a bad day."

"Yeah," Sam agreed. "It's complicated. I don't really want to talk about it."

"Fair enough," Louis said. He eyed Sam for a second. "We could get out of here. If you like."

Sam's mouth went dry and he struggled to come up with an answer. The bartender had drifted closer and to Sam's surprise, he clamped one hand down on Louis's arm and shoved him backwards.

Louis snarled at him. "You!" he exclaimed. Sam turned back to the bartender in astonishment. The unremarkable young man with mud colored hair had gone, replaced by the form of the Trickster.

"Me," the demigod agreed. "Sam's off limits, _Louis._ "

"Laid claim to him yourself?" Louis said. "How very unlike you, _Loki_."

The Trickster shrugged easily. "No. But he's not for the likes of you."

"Hey," Sam said. "I'm sitting right here." The Trickster… Loki? That made sense, he supposed. Louis was stalking out of the bar muttering to himself.

"Sorry, Sam," the demigod said. "But he's bad news. Stay away from him."

"You don't get a say in who I spend time with," Sam snapped.

"No?" the Trickster said. "Why not?" He grabbed Sam by the lapels and dragged him bodily across the bar, bringing their mouths together. Desire slammed into Sam, as the Trickster's tongue thrust into his mouth and he groaned helplessly. He struggled a little against the demigod's hold but it was useless. He felt dizzy with arousal. Then just as suddenly, the Trickster let him go and he almost fell to the floor.

"What the Hell was that?" Sam blurted out.

"A mistake," the demigod said breathlessly. "I-"

Seeing the Trickster at a loss for words was such a rarity, Sam was taken aback.

"I should not have done that," the demigod said finally. "I owe you an apology."

"It's fine," Sam said gruffly. "I wasn't exactly resisting."

"No, but that's not the point. I said you were off limits. That applies to me too."

Sam gaped at him. "So who's handing down these edicts on my life?"

"That's not for me to say," the Trickster said. And with a snap of his fingers he was gone.

"Fuck," Sam said. "Just… fuck."

* * *

Castiel looked down at Uriel's corpse, the outline of his wings scorched into the concrete across the devil's trap. Anna stood next to him.

"So," she said. "Uriel."

"Yes," Castiel said. "I can still barely believe it, even now."

"I know," Anna said. "What will you do now?"

"What else can I do? I make my report to Heaven and we keep fighting."

"You know Dean's right, don't you. That Heaven wants Lucifer to rise. That everything you're doing is futile."

"No," Castiel snapped. "I do not know that. I refuse to believe it."

"It's true," Anna said. "You'll come to see it eventually."

Castiel flicked a glance at her and she grinned crazily at him before vanishing.

He found Dean slumped over the table in Bobby's kitchen. Sam caught the angel by the arm.

"You did this!" he accused, pointing at his drunken brother. "Now fix it."

"I can't," Cas said helplessly.

"Bullshit," Sam snarled. "You just don't want to."

"You don't understand," Cas told him.

"Damn right," Sam said and stalked off. Cas sat in the chair next to Dean and patted his shoulder.

"Dean?"

"Hey, Cas," the hunter slurred. "Whassup?"

"I came to see how you were," Cas said. "You're… drunk?"

"Yep," Dean agreed. "Shit-faced."

"Why?" the angel pressed. "Why poison yourself like this?"

"I told you," Dean said heavily. "It's like last time, only worse. I don't know if I can even get things to turn out the same way, let alone do a better job than last time."

"You're too hard on yourself," the angel reflected. "Changing history is very, very difficult. Even for a God."

"What did you say?"

"I said changing history is difficult."

"No, no, the other bit. About a God." Dean held his head in his hands. "I'm too drunk for this conversation." Cas touched his head with his fingers and the drunken state evaporated. He grinned at the angel and Cas smiled back. They looked at each other for a moment.

"Well, angels can change history a little," Cas said finally. "Archangels even more so. And most Gods."

"A God? What kind?"

"Any really," Cas said. "Why?"

"We've been letting ourselves get distracted," Dean said. "We need to find Tenebrae and ask it what the fuck it's up to."

"OK," Cas said. "What can you tell me about it?"

"Not much. It usually talked to me through dreams. And not in a voice exactly, more like it shaped the background noises into words."

"Natural sounds or any background noise?" Cas asked.

"Natural sounds, I think." Dean said after a moment's thought. There was a rustling sound and Sam reappeared in the doorway.

"Do you remember anything else?"

"No," Dean said uncertainly. "It's not much."

"It might be enough," Cas said, his face drawn and pale. "I have to go investigate this. I'll be back."

* * *

Crowley looked at the latest experiment in astonishment. They'd tried stabbing and cutting a range of unfortunate humans and they'd all died the same way. Slowly, agonizingly, as if they were actually being consumed from the outside in. But not this one. The woman Simmons had brought him was in her mid-fifties, with silver-gray hair and unusual violet eyes. She reminded Crowley of Elizabeth Taylor. It seemed a shame, really. He shook himself, since when did he feel sorry for humans? She struggled against her bonds and her lovely eyes widened as he approached her with the knife.

"Please," she begged, her voice sweet and strangely mesmerizing.

When he'd sliced a little unwillingly into the porcelain flesh of her arm, she'd blinked rapidly and then passed out. But several hours later, the only evidence of what he'd done was the bandage on her arm and the fact she was still unconscious. She was breathing rapidly, her chest rising and falling.

"Sir?" Simmons said tentatively. He looked up to see her hovering, her eyes concerned. "What's going on?"

"I don't know," Crowley said. "She's the first one to survive so long. And there's none of the decline we saw with the others. Who is she, Simmons?"

"Pharmacist, from Spokane. Nothing unusual about her that I could see," Simmons told him. "Her name is Lydia Warren."

"Could she be a witch?"

"No," Simmons said. "I was careful. You said pure human. She's pure."

"Hmm," Crowley said. "Well, something's different." Lydia's eyes suddenly opened and Crowley jumped. "Very different."

"Crowley," Lydia said, but it wasn't the sweet tones of the woman he'd met a few hours earlier. This voice was huskier, and Crowley felt a strange twitch of arousal. He frowned, he didn't dislike women but he wasn't really attracted to them, although he quite enjoyed possessing one from time to time. Sex as a woman was- He blinked. He was letting himself get distracted.

"I don't remember telling you my name," he said.

Lydia smiled. "I've been waiting for you," she said and with an idle gesture dismissed the ropes tying her hands and feet together.

"You have?" Crowley said, making a subtle gesture at Simmons. "Well, I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage."

"Yes," Lydia said in satisfaction. "But don't worry. I'm on your side."

"Of course you are," Crowley replied. Simmons slipped out of the room to go get reinforcements. This was getting out of hand.

"I know what you want," Lydia continued. "I'm willing to help you get it. In return for a favor." Crowley rubbed his hands together, deals he could understand.

"So, who are you?"

"I have many names," Lydia said. "Why don't you just keep calling me Lydia?"

"I'd prefer to know who I'm dealing with," Crowley said. "And what exactly happened?"

"I've been inside that knife for hundreds of years," Lydia said. "I was murdered, in cold blood, by the archangels."

"All four?" Crowley said in surprise. "That must have been quite a long time ago."

"Four? No, three," Lydia said. "Lucifer had already fallen and was locked in the Cage."

"Still, Gabriel's been AWOL for nearly as long. Nobody knows where he is, or even if he's still alive."

"Oh he's alive," Lydia snarled, her hands clenching. Where the Hell were his minions? "And I have plans for him."

"So," Crowley said, pretending a casualness he didn't feel. "Who are you and how did you end up inside Lydia here?"

Lydia rolled her eyes. "Don't make me regret supporting you, Crowley. Lydia Warren was that rarest of creatures, a human descended from my bloodline."

"She was supposed to be pure human!" Crowley barked and Lydia threw her head back and laughed.

"Don't blame Simmons," she said. "It's a tiny trace, no more. Barely detectable. When the blade of the Shadow Knife touched her blood, I was able to escape and possess this body. She looked down at herself. "I've never had an avatar before," she said to herself. "It feels… unusual."

"A name," Crowley ground out.

"Fine. Call me Zila."

"Zila," Crowley said contemplatively. "Interesting."

* * *

Zachariah looked at the report in his hand and then up at the angel in front of him.

"Uriel's death, Balthazar." he said finally. "You still don't know who killed him?"

"No idea," Balthazar said idly. "Another angel."

"This is getting out of control," Zachariah said tightly. "The powers that be are getting anxious."

"Michael's getting anxious, you mean," Balthazar said. "Is he worried that Lucifer will rise, or worried that he won't?"

Zachariah looked up at him startled. "That Lucifer will rise. Obviously."

"Hmm," Balthazar said. "Maybe. There are some strange rumors about Uriel."

"Rumors," Zachariah said dismissively. "Angels gossip worse than old women."

Balthazar laughed, a hearty belly laugh that made Zachariah want to stab the smug angel in his smug face. "He met with Lucifer."

"Impossible!" Zachariah declared. "No angel could enter Hell alone and survive. Even an archangel would need backup."

"Unless he had safe passage," Balthazar said. "Now why would Lucifer want to meet with Uriel. He's a seraph, nothing special."

"Lucifer is interested in any angel considering a fall," Zachariah told him. "Perhaps Uriel was considering switching sides."

"Perhaps," Balthazar said. "But I don't think so. Something stinks here, Zach." Zachariah wrinkled his nose at the shortening of his name. "Angels are dying. Seals break every day. The Host is getting restless. We're hurtling towards the Apocalypse and it's your responsibility to make sure it doesn't happen. You're not doing so well."

"And I suppose you think you could do better?" Zachariah said witheringly. "You should try dealing with the vessels. They're idiots."

"Make sure Michael doesn't hear you," Balthazar laughed. "He's fond of Dean Winchester."

"Nothing I do works!" Zachariah exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. "I even tried wiping their memories and setting up this whole, elaborate plot. Just to show them that this is their destiny. And they still managed to fuck it up!"

"Language, Zach," Balthazar said primly. "How exactly did they fuck it up?"

"Dean figured it out immediately," Zachariah replied. "Didn't buy into it for a second. Refused to do anything. Eventually I had to just close it down."

"OK," Balthazar said. "You're upset. Maybe I should come back later."

"No," Zachariah said heavily. "Let's keep the hits coming. What other bad news do you have for me?"

"The Shadow Knife has disappeared," Balthazar said.

"What! What happened?"

"No idea," Balthazar said.

"You say that a lot."

"Sorry," the angel said. He didn't sound sorry at all. He sounded amused.

"Terrific," Zachariah said. "You need to find it. Go."

* * *

"So," Sam said hesitantly. "What now?"

"I don't know," Dean said. "That Zachariah asshole is weird."

"Yeah," Sam agreed. "But that's not what I meant. What do we do about Lilith?"

"We're fresh out of leads," Dean said. "Bobby called a few days ago about something he was following up with Rufus. Haven't heard back from him yet."

"Well, how about a case," Sam suggested. "Just a good old fashioned ghost hunt."

"Sounds good, actually," Dean admitted. "What have you got?"

"Apartment above a comic book store," Sam said. "Tenants complained about cold spots, stuff moving around, closet doors opening and closing. Usual drill."

"OK," Dean said. "We've got nothing else. Let's check it out."

But when they pulled up in front of the store, Dean groaned and banged his head on the steering wheel.

"Dean?" Sam said, alarmed.

"Chuck. Fucking Chuck. How could I forget?"

"Chuck?"

"Chuck Shurley, a.k.a. Carver Edlund. Wrote books about us. The Winchester Gospels, believe it or not."

"Uh…"

"Last time, when we met him we thought he was a prophet."

"He is a prophet," Cas rumbled from the back seat. Sam and Dean yelped in surprise.

"Dammit, Cas!"

"Why are you here bothering the prophet?" the angel asked.

"Firstly, we're not. Exactly. Secondly, he's not a prophet." Dean said.

"Yes, he is," Cas insisted. "All the names of the prophets are-"

"Yeah, yeah. I know. You're still wrong. He's-" Dean didn't get the chance to finish that sentence. He looked around the untidy living room with dread and recognition.

"Come on, Dean," Chuck said. "Can't have you ruining the twist ending."

"Chuck," Dean said steadily. "Do you know what the Hell is going on?"

"Well, yeah," Chuck said. "I am God, after all."

"OK," Dean said through gritted teeth. "So this whole time travel adventure I'm on. You're not going to interfere?"

"Not more than I have to," Chuck said. "I've already explained how this works, Dean."

"No you haven't," Dean denied. "Not yet, anyway."

"I'm not actually subject to the laws of time," Chuck said. "So, yes, I have."

Dean glared at him. "OK, fine. So what do we do now? Doesn't me knowing about you screw this whole pooch?"

"Not really," Chuck said idly. "Not if you play along and don't tell Sam."

"Don't tell Sam?" Dean repeated. "He's the one with faith! Maybe meeting you, knowing who you are, will be the thing that turns him off this path!"

"Dean," Chuck said patiently. "Don't make me wipe your memory." Dean stepped back, unnerved. "Sam has to find his own path."

"That path leads to Lucifer's release and Sam in the Cage!" Dean yelled. Chuck looked serenely back at him.

"Yes. Perhaps. Or maybe this time he will make different choices."

"But he's not," Dean said urgently. "He's making the same damn mistakes as last time, even when I tell him what I remember."

"No," Chuck said. "Some things have changed already. You just have to have faith, Dean."

"So what happens now?" Dean challenged.

Chuck shrugged. "That's up to you. We can do this the easy way, or the hard way."

"I don't know what that means," Dean snapped. "What does that mean?"

"Play along. Or I'll take away those memories and you can play this just like Sam."

"I hate you," Dean said. Chuck grinned at him. "Fine. How are you going to explain this disappearance to Sam and Cas."

"What disappearance?" Chuck said casually.

Dean blinked. He was back in the car and Cas and Sam were staring at him expectantly.

"He's what?" Sam prompted.

"An asshole," Dean snarled.


	14. Chapter 14

Crowley signalled to the barman to refill his glass and sighed. It had been a long, fruitless day.

"You look thoroughly fed up," a voice said in a familiar Irish brogue. He looked up.

"Lucien," he said. "How did you find me?"

"I didn't," Lucien said. "I just happened to be here." Crowley gave him a skeptical look and the redhead shrugged. "But I am glad I ran into you." He idly pulled back the leather duster he was wearing to reveal a Colt revolver at his waist. _The_ Colt.

Crowley whistled in surprise. "Where did you find that?" he gasped.

"It seems Bela was more than a little careless about who she promised this lovely weapon to," Lucien told him. "She promised it to Lilith, and apparently she also promised it to a friend of mine. On top of that, she also promised it to a human artifact collector in Hong Kong. Apparently she thought demons were easier to fool than humans, because she gave it to the human. Man by the name of Lee Wang. I convinced him to give it to me."

"Oh?" Crowley said curiously. "How?"

"I offered him immortality. In my service, of course, but my demands are not onerous."

"So, you have the Colt. What do you want from me?"

"An exchange," Lucien said. "The Colt for the Shadow Blade."

Crowley eyed him for a moment. "What do you know about that thing anyway?"

"The Blade itself was made in Athens, long before the birth of Christ," Lucien said. "The story goes that a weaponsmith whose name is lost to history, made the Blade in exchange for the life of his daughter. She was dying of some disease and all the healers of the day had given up hope. He made a deal to make the Blade and his daughter was healed. It's said the Blade can enslave the hearts of men, but that eventually it consumes them."

"Who made this deal?" Crowley asked. "A demon? I've never heard this story before."

"I don't know," Lucien admitted. "The demigod who told me this story wouldn't say."

"A demigod?" Crowley said, a dark suspicion forming in his mind. "One of the Norse gods, perhaps?"

Lucien laughed merrily. "I should know better than to underestimate you! Yes, if you must know, one of the Aesir. And that's the interesting thing. He says that three archangels trapped a being inside the Blade. That entity was the one who commissioned the Blade in the first place."

"Why is that interesting?" Crowley asked, feigning boredom.

"Because of the reason they did it," Lucien said. "They trapped it inside the Blade because it was threatening the bloodlines of the Winchesters."

Crowley inhaled his Scotch and choked. "What?"

"I know," Lucien said. "Insane, isn't it?"

"When you say threatening the bloodlines, what do you mean?"

"Whatever this thing is, it's powerful. And it managed to prevent certain ancestors from meeting when they were supposed to. The angels had to scramble to fix everything. And now, you've let it out."

"Not my problem," Crowley said idly. Inside, his mind was racing. This was bad.

"So, here's the deal. Give me the Blade, and I'll give you the Colt. Nobody need ever know what really happened."

"Why would you do that?" Crowley said suspiciously. "What's in it for you?"

"I need that Blade," Lucien said. "I have my own battles and that Blade can hurt the one I'm fighting. Not much else can."

"You're smart," Crowley told him. "Self-interest's a motive I can believe. All right, you've got yourself a deal. Come over to the house I just… acquired. We can settle things there." He gave Lucien an appreciative glance up and down. "And anything else you fancy." Lucien grinned at him.

* * *

Balthazar twirled a chopstick idly through his fingers and grinned when Cas gave him an irritated glance.

"Why won't you take this seriously?" Cas asked.

"I am," Balthazar told him. "But you have to admit, it is sort of funny."

"I don't see how," Cas said icily.

"Well, Uriel always was the funniest angel in the garrison." Cas flinched and Balthazar leaned forward. "Uriel's dead, eight other angels from your garrison are dead and Zachariah is breathing down my neck to find out what happened. On top of that, the Shadow Blade reappears in a barn in the countryside, and then just as mysteriously disappears."

"Uriel was supposed to deliver it to Michael," Cas said. "Did he not do that?"

"No," Balthazar said deliberately. "He did not. He gave it to Lucifer."

Cas gasped in horror. "Surely Lucifer wouldn't release… the inhabitant?"

"Perhaps not, but I don't know what he was thinking. He passed the Blade off to a lower ranked demon in Lilith's legion. Funny little fucker called Crowley."

Cas looked contemptuous. "We've met. Long ago."

"Yeah, well, snivelling little snake has it now. And as far as I can tell, he had no idea what a poisoned chalice his master has given him." Balthazar raked a hand through his hair. "This is a total clusterfuck, Cas."

"Keep your voice down," Cas hissed, looking around the busy restaurant nervously. "Why we had to meet here is beyond me."

"I like Chinese food. Sue me." Balthazar said.

"You sound like Gabriel," Cas said wistfully. "I wish he were here now."

"Gabriel?" Balthazar said, sounding startled. "What made you think of him after all this time?"

"I don't know," Cas admitted. "I've never stopped missing him. I just feel like things would be better if he hadn't left."

"Do you think he's still alive?"

"I don't know," Cas said heavily. "I'd like to think he wouldn't stay hidden with everything that's going on."

"Well, I have to be getting back," Balthazar announced. "Michael's getting very antsy about the whole rise of Lucifer thing. There are whispers of angels switching sides. These murders just add grist to the mill. So anyone who spends too long on earth is getting a lot of scrutiny."

"Are they saying that about me?" Cas fretted. "I've been here for some time now."

"No," Balthazar admitted. "Everyone knows you're the protector of Michael's vessel. I think that gets you off the hook." He peered at Cas. "His Guardian angel, in fact." He whistled. "When did that happen?"

"Dean was dying and refusing to let me help him. Uriel made me Dean's guardian so that I could heal him. On Joshua's orders."

Balthazar looked thunderstruck. " _Joshua's_ orders?"

"Yes."  
"Does that mean _He's_ coming back?"

"I don't know," Cas said. He gave Balthazar a small smile. "I hope so."

* * *

Dean whimpered in his sleep and Cas couldn't help himself, reaching out and fitting his hand over the mark on Dean's shoulder. He calmed down immediately at Cas's touch and smiled.

"Cas," he muttered, the warmth in his voice making the angel's cheeks heat. Cas snatched his hand away. He shouldn't be doing this. But he'd never encountered a soul like Dean's before, so shining and bright it blinded him. A little awe at the beauty of his father's creation was entirely appropriate but he knew deep within him that this was not such reverence. He wondered if inhabiting this fleshly vessel was corrupting him. Dean rolled over and the covers slid off his hip, leaving his body almost completely bare except for his boxer shorts. Cas's mouth went dry and his fingers twitched. Before he could even register the thought, he stepped closer to the bed and reached out to touch that warm, male skin. Blood pounded in his ears.

" _Castiel!"_ The angel turned around in shock to see a narrow-eyed Zachariah standing by the car door. "Just what do you think you are doing?"

"Watching over my charge," Cas retorted. He felt dizzy.

"Really?" Zachariah drawled. "Come with me, now. It seems we have much to discuss." He vanished and Cas clenched his fists. This was not good.

* * *

Dean watched his brother brushing his teeth and leaning against the hood of the car. He looked out over the lake they'd stopped at last night to catch a few hours sleep. It was still, almost unnaturally so.

"You OK?" Sam said indistinctly through a mouthful of toothpaste.

"Yeah," he lied. "I'm starving. Let's get breakfast."

Sam gave him an incredulous look. "Where? We're like two hours from anything."

"But I'm hungry now," Dean whined.

"There's probably still a sandwich on the back seat," Sam told him. He rinsed out his mouth with a bottle of water. Dean rubbed a hand over his face and reached through the open back window, pulling out a paper bag. He opened it and sniffed and then pulled a face.

"It's tuna," he complained.

The quiet air was split by the shrill tone of a cellphone ringing inside the car. Dean tossed the paper bag back through the window and leaned in through the front window, rummaging in the glove compartment until finally he located the ringing phone. As he pulled his head out, he hit his head on the roof and yelped in pain. He glared at the phone.

"Isn't that Dad's phone?" Sam said curiously.

Dean flipped open the phone and answered, "Hello?"

"Uh, is this John?" a male voice asked. There was something vaguely familiar about it.

"He can't come to the phone," Dean said shortly. "Can I help you?"

"No no no—I really—I need to talk to John," the voice said. "This is Adam Milligan. He knows me."

"Well, sorry to be the one to break this to you, pal, but John died more than two years ago," Dean said callously. He wasn't in the mood for the softly-softly approach this morning. Sam pulled a face at him. Adam gasped. "Who is this?" Dean added.

"I'm his son," Adam said. Dean almost dropped the phone and Sam grabbed it out of his hands.

"Hi there, sorry, umm, what did you say your name was again?"

* * *

"You sure we should do this?" Sam asked.

"I don't know, Sam," Dean said heavily. He stared at Adam's body, lying on the pyre and wrapped in sheets. "It doesn't make any difference. Nothing I do makes any difference. I don't care what Chuck says." He squirted a bottle of lighter fluid over the pyre. "Adam was our brother. He died like a hunter. He deserves to go out like one."

"Maybe we can bring him back. Get a hold of Cas, call in a favor."

"No. This isn't the end for Adam, unless things start changing." Dean lit a match and tossed it on the pyre. Flames engulfed Adam's body and Dean stared at it for a while.

"You know, this was when I finally figured out why you and Dad butted heads so much. You two were practically the same person." Dean said finally. Sam turned to look at him. "I mean, I worshipped the guy, you know? I dressed like him, I acted like him, I listen to the same music. But you were more like him than I will ever be. This-" he waved a hand vaguely when words failed him. "This made me see it."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Sam said, his voice catching.

"You take it any way you want," Dean said. "I'm not sure it is one."

He watched the flames for a while.

"Dean, what do you mean? You said unless things start changing," Sam probed.

"So far, a lot has panned out like last time," Dean said softly. "I mean, there are differences. The biggest one was stopping the raising of Samhain, but in the end we still seem to be on the same road. Lilith's still breaking seals left and right and we're scrambling to keep up. What's the point? The final seal is the big one, and I can't stop you breaking that one if you won't listen to me."

"It's not that I don't listen," Sam objected. "It's just hard to believe. Why would Lilith break these seals if she knew?"

"I don't know. Maybe she doesn't know," Dean said.

"I don't know either," Sam said.

"It doesn't matter," Dean replied. "You're going to kill her and it seems like I can't stop you."

"Dean…"

"No, Sam. This is what I mean. Dad would get an idea in his head, especially if it was about revenge and you could not talk him out of it. Even if you showed him he was on the wrong path."

"Maybe you're more like Dad than you think," Sam said sourly. "You're so convinced that you've lived through this before, that you know what's going to happen. But you haven't been right every time. You didn't seem to know much about Chuck. And the siren, that was new, right?"

"Uhh-"

"Son of a bitch," Sam breathed. "You lied about remembering that one? Why?"

"I didn't lie," Dean said. "I just… remembered it differently."

"How?" Sam demanded. "What was different this time?"

Dean swallowed. "Nothing. I… blotted it out, I think. Until it was too late."

"I wonder why," Sam said sarcastically.

* * *

"So, what do we know?" Crowley demanded. Frat boy Maxwell handed him a book and a scroll. Crowley glanced at the book and then tossed it on the table. "Summarize, man!"

"Not much," Maxwell admitted. "Zila is an Arabic word. It means 'shadow'. According to Zila, she's been in the Shadow Blade for centuries. Put there by Michael, Gabriel and Raphael, sometime after Lucifer's fall."

"I don't like it," Crowley said. "I hate not knowing things. What is she? Is she a she?"

"Where is she now?" Maxwell asked. Crowley gave a shrug. "She left?"

"I was unable to convince her to stay." That stung really. But she radiated power and Crowley didn't get where he was today by pissing off powerful entities.

"And the Blade?" Maxwell asked.

"It's still dangerous to anything of the mortal plane," Crowley said. "It's poisonous ability changed since Zila left."

"Changed how?" Maxwell said.

"Seems to act slower. Humans cut or stabbed with the knife become like zombies. The wielder of the knife controls them. Hard to say when or even if they will die."

"There are easier ways to enslave humans," Maxwell said dismissively.

"True," Crowley agreed. "I got bored of it, to be honest. Swapped it for something more fun."

* * *

Dean leaned back and let the sun warm his face for a moment. It was so peaceful here, a man could fish, relax, maybe drink a beer or two. He turned towards the cooler by his feet and pulled out a beer. It was icy cold and he quickly twisted off the top and chugged half the bottle in one go. Perfection.

"We need to talk," a familiar voice said. Dean turned towards the angel.

"I'm dreaming, aren't I?"

"It's not safe here," Cas told him. "Someplace more private." The angel looked shifty and unhappy.

"More private? We're inside my head." Dean pointed out.

"Exactly. Someone could be listening." Cas replied.

"Cas, what's wrong?"

"Meet me here," Cas said, handing him a slip of paper. "Go now."

"Wait," Dean said. "I remember this. Cas, you're in danger. Last time-" he broke off. Cas had gone.

Dean eyed Jimmy as he practically inhaled the hamburger they'd bought him. He was making little grunts of pleasure as he ate. Dean shifted uncomfortably and he could see Sam out of the corner of his eye looking slightly disturbed.

"You mind slowing down? You're gonna give me angina." Dean said.

"I'm hungry," Jimmy said defensively.

"When's the last time you ate?" Sam asked him.

"I don't know," Jimmy replied through a mouthful of food. "Months." He continued making little pleasurable noises as he ate. Dean felt vaguely nauseous.

"What the hell happened back there? It looked like an angel battle royale." Sam pressed.

Jimmy shrugged. "All I remember is a flash of light and I, uh . . . I woke up and I was just, you know, like, me again."

"Cas got called back to Heaven," Dean said heavily.

"I really don't know." Jimmy said. He cast a long look at Dean then returned his attention to his meal.

"You remember anything about being possessed? Anything at all?" Sam asked. Dean shook his head but Sam ignored him.

"Yeah, bits and pieces. I mean, angel inside of you, it's kinda like being chained to a comet."

"Ah, that doesn't sound like much fun," Dean commented.

"Understatement," Jimmy said with a roll of his eyes. And then another of those sidelong glances.

"Cas said he wanted to tell us something. Please tell me you remember that."

"Sorry," Jimmy said.

"Sam," Dean said, getting up and pointing his chin towards the bathroom. Sam nodded and followed Dean in there. Dean closed the door.

"Cas got recalled to Heaven. He's in big trouble right now."

"Shit," Sam said with feeling. "So what do we do?"

"Last time, Jimmy made a break for it, went back to his family. Demons everywhere, and his daughter Claire possessed by Cas for a while. It was a mess."

"OK," Sam said. "So we keep him away from his family. He's probably not going to like it, but we'll figure something out." Dean looked away and Sam leaned back, folding his arms.

"What is it?" he asked.

"We need Cas back," Dean said.

"Yeah," Sam agreed. "But I don't see the Hamburglar out there being willing to be his vessel again. You heard what he said."

"I heard," Dean said. He looked down at the floor.

"Dean?" Sam said warningly. "Dean, we can't force him to take Cas back."

"I know that," Dean defended. "I just…"

"Just nothing," Sam said. "We keep him safe."

Back in the motel room, Jimmy had moved on to the French fries.

"So, Jimmy," Sam said cautiously. "I know you're desperate to get back to your family. But, it's really not a good idea."

"Why not?" Jimmy said indignantly. "Damn it, haven't I given enough?"

"Yeah, no totally," Sam agreed. "But if you want to keep them safe, you have to stay away."

"For how long?" Jimmy asked.

"I don't know," Sam admitted. "The demons will want to get their hands on an angel vessel."

"But I don't know anything," Jimmy objected. And the sidelong look at Dean.  
"Hey, Sam," Dean interjected. "Why don't you go get us some cold sodas from the lobby?" Sam narrowed his eyes at him for a moment and then nodded and left the room. Jimmy eyed Dean uncertainly.

"OK, spit it out," Dean said.

"What?" Jimmy said, attempting to look confused. He wasn't very good at it.

"The strange looks. Come on, something's up."

"All right," Jimmy said. "It's about you and Castiel." He looked down at his shoes. "I- remember what you said to him. And I know how he feels about it."

"That's pretty cryptic," Dean said, a cold feeling in his gut. Jimmy looked up with a strange expression on his face.

"You told him you were in love with him," he said baldly. "He's very conflicted about it."

Dean choked in horror. "I don't know if I want to hear any more," he said, backing away.

"Tough cookies," Jimmy said. "I wasn't going to say anything, but you brought it up. He's an angel. Such a liaison is forbidden. In fact, just feeling the things he's feeling, he should have reported the problem to Heaven months ago and gotten reassigned."

"Oh," Dean said lamely.

"Oh indeed," Jimmy said. "Remember this is my body he's in. Or was. And you want to stuff him back in here, so you can have your lover back."

"He's not my-"

Jimmy waved him off. "It doesn't matter. It's not going to happen. I'm done. And even if I wasn't, I am not OK with this."

"Shit," Dean said. "I'm sorry, Jimmy. I didn't think."

"Quite," Jimmy said acidly. "I have a wife, whom I love. And I am straight." Dean couldn't look at him. "Look, I'm not trying to be an asshole. But I am going back to my life. Castiel can find another vessel."

"Jimmy, you can't," Dean objected. "I told you, you'd be putting your family in danger."

"Danger," Jimmy scoffed. "Just watch me." He turned towards the door and Dean grabbed his arm.

"I mean it," Dean said.

"Take your hands off me," Jimmy said in a low, angry voice. He fought against Dean's hold but the hunter was stronger and held on easily. He dragged Jimmy closer to snarl in his face and Jimmy stared at him, his mouth dropping open. Dean blinked in surprise as the irritated man's pupils enlarged and his gaze dropped to Dean's mouth. Maybe Jimmy wasn't as straight as he made out. They just stood there in that suspended moment and then Sam knocked at the door, breaking the spell.

Dean let Jimmy go and opened the door. Sam looked warily at the visibly distressed Jimmy and slightly shell-shocked looking Dean.

"Uh… I might have something I need to do," Sam said hesitantly, holding out two soda cans. "Like, right now…"

"It's fine," Dean said. "We're done."

"OK," Sam said slowly. "So what's the plan?"

"We take Jimmy to Bobby's," Dean said. "Then we can figure out our next move."

"Fine," Jimmy said sullenly.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much everyone who had been commenting - I really appreciate it! Seriously knowing that people are reading and enjoying my fics is really motivational to my writing, I really can't thank you guys enough!

It should not have been so easy to slip out of a room where two hunters slept. In retrospect, Sam supposed that he was mostly to blame. But Dean seemed to be taking it personally.

"Did you and Jimmy fight while I was out of the room yesterday?" he asked.

Dean's grip tightened on the steering wheel. "No."

"Well, something happened," Sam insisted.

"We just had a disagreement, that's all. I was trying to convince him that he'd be putting his family in danger if he went home." Dean said defensively.

"Hey, guys," Anna said from the backseat. The car swerved alarmingly for a moment as Dean jerked the steering wheel and then had to wrestle to get the car back under control.

"Smooth," Anna commented with a grin.

"You ever try calling ahead?" Dean said

"I like the element of surprise," Anna replied. "You let Jimmy get away?"

"Talk to ginormo here," Dean said sourly.

"Sam," Anna said. "You seem different."

"Me? I don't know." Sam said, twitching nervously. "Heh. A haircut?"

"That's not what I'm talking about," Anna said severely, and narrowed her eyes at him. He looked away, uncomfortable.

"So, what'd Jimmy tell you? He remember anything?" Anna said, returning her attention to Dean.

"No," Dean said. "But it won't matter, will it?"

"You know Cas got sent back home. Well, more like dragged back."

"To Heaven?" Sam said. "Dean said that. That's not a good thing?"

"No. That's a very bad thing. Painfully, awfully bad. He must have seriously pissed someone off."

"Cas said he had something to tell me," Dean added. "Something important."

"What?" Anna said, leaning forward.

"Last time, I think it was to tell me that there are angels in Heaven who are working to bring on the Apocalypse." Dean admitted.

"That's huge." Anna's eyes were wide. "You gotta find out for sure."

"That's why we're going after Jimmy." Sam told her.

"That's why you shouldn't have let him go in the first place," Anna said, watching Dean closely. "He's probably dead already." Dean flinched and a small smile tugged at her mouth.

"We gotta get gas," Dean said, swinging the Impala into a gas station. There was no reply from the back seat. Anna had gone.

* * *

Dean got out of the car and started gassing up. Sam muttered something about getting some snacks and headed off. Once he was out of Dean's line of sight and earshot he pulled out his cell. Ruby's phone rang four times and then bounced him to voicemail.

"Where the hell are you, Ruby? This isn't funny anymore. I'm all out. Stop whatever you're doing. Call me. I need more." he said. Then he shoved his phone back into his pocket.

"Jonesing, are we?" a new voice said and Sam yelped in surprise. The Trickster was leaning against the wall, a grin on his face but his eyes didn't match.

"I didn't think I'd see you again," Sam admitted. "It's been a while."

"Yeah," the demigod agreed. "I was trying to help you, but I thought I was making things worse. So I stayed away. Apparently, that was a mistake."

"It's not what you think," Sam said.

The Trickster folded his arms over his chest and leveled a look at him. "It's not what I think? Really? You're not standing here, hiding from Dean and leaving desperate messages with your dealer that you need another fix?"

"You make me sound like a drug addict."

"You are an addict," Golden eyes flashed. "If you'd only let yourself see it."

"I'm not doing this for kicks!" Sam snapped. "I'm trying to get strong enough to defeat Lilith."

"Sammy," the Trickster said sadly. "What's strong about turning yourself into a monster?"

"I'm not a monster!" Sam insisted. "That's… I can't believe you would call me that."

The demigod placed a hand on his arm and the feel of it made Sam's skin crawl. "Oh," the Trickster gasped. "You're even further gone than I thought. Oh, Sammy."

Sam pulled his arm away. "Leave me alone." The demigod vanished and Sam leaned back against the wall and tried to ignore the tears that pricked at his eyes.

* * *

"You wanted to see me," Ruby said, looking around the library curiously.

"Yes," Crowley said expansively from behind the desk. "Like my new digs?"

"Who'd you steal them from?"

"Some rapper," Crowley dismissed. "Total arse if you must know."

"Nice," Ruby said. "So, what do you want? I'm busy."

"What are you up to with Sam Winchester?" Crowley asked. She raised an eyebrow at him. "You've got him wrapped around your little finger. Nothing you're doing makes sense, at least on the surface. So I figure, you're playing a long con. I just can't figure out what the endgame is."

"It's none of your business," Ruby said tartly. "I work for Lilith, not for you."

"And just like that, our little alliance crumbles," Crowley said with a shake of his head.

"Look," Ruby said irritably. "I said I'd support you for King of the Crossroads, once Lilith is gone. She's still here, and I have to make sure I stay topside until it's done. So don't fuck with me."

"All right," Crowley relented. "But you piqued my curiosity. So here's what I know. You arranged the meeting between me and Uriel. Turns out Uriel wanted an audience with Lucifer."

"Yeah," Ruby said, sounding agitated. "I know that. Ba'al told me about it."

Crowley grimaced at her. "I don't know what you promised him to get him to tell you, and I don't want to know. Ba'al even disgusts me." He watched an expression of remembered horror flicker across Ruby's face. "What you don't know is what that meeting was about."

"I assumed Uriel was planning to switch sides," Ruby said, sounding bored.

"Ah ha!" Crowley said triumphantly. "That's where you're wrong. Uriel actually came to give Lucifer this." He held up the Shadow Blade.

Ruby peered at it and then her eyes widened in recognition. "So what is it?" she breathed.

"It's called the Shadow Blade. Don't know much about it. But stab a human with it and it can enslave them. They die eventually. And it had a resident."

"A resident?"

"Something that calls itself Zila," Crowley told her.

"Something?" Ruby said quietly. "You don't know what it was?"

"No," Crowley admitted. "And that's where I need your help."

"My help!" Ruby said incredulously. "Why?"

"Zila is an Arabic word," Crowley told her. "It means shadow. Zila claims she was imprisoned in the knife by the three remaining archangels after Lucifer's fall. She says that she was imprisoned because she is capable of slaying an archangel."

Ruby gasped. "That can't be true."

"I don't know if it's true or not," Crowley shrugged. "But I think we ought to find out, because she's on the loose and she's pissed."

"Why do you care if she kills Michael, or Raphael?" Ruby asked, narrowing her eyes.

"Because she could also kill Lucifer?" Crowley reminded her. "You're a loyal demon, do you really want that kind of threat out there?"

"I'm loyal," Ruby agreed. "I'm not so sure about you."

"If Zila kills Lucifer, what happens to Hell?" Crowley pressed. "Angels descend and we're all wiped out. You're right, I've no real love for Lucifer, but with him in the Cage and alive, we have peace. Angels harrowing Hell doesn't end well for anyone."

"You're a pragmatist," Ruby said derisively.

"Never pretended to be anything else," Crowley told her. "So, find out who this Zila is. I've got my network on this too, but the ranks of crossroads demons are small. You lower ranked demons are everywhere, and Lilith's got fingers in all the pies."

* * *

The Novak house was quiet and Dean exchanged a look with Sam. "Everything seems quiet. But I know the demons are coming."

Sam looked away. "I wish you'd cut that out."

"Cut what out?"

"The whole 'I've seen the future' schtick. It's getting old." Sam snapped.

Dean gaped at him. "Are you telling me you don't believe me?"

"Come on, Dean. Time traveller from the future, come to warn of the impending doom? It's like the script to a bad cable TV movie."

"You think I'm making this up," Dean said, aware he was effectively repeating himself but unable to comprehend the idea that Sam would ever think that.

"Yes. I do. I think you've gotten this weird idea in your head, I think Cas has been whispering in your ear and you've bought into it. I don't know why. But ever since you came back from Hell you've been… different. You don't trust me, you don't believe I know what I'm doing and you don't ever give me a break."

Dean stared at Sam, his mouth opening and closing, but no sound coming out. There was a woman's scream and a sound of breaking glass from Jimmy's house.

"Fuck! Let's go, Sam!"

Leaning against the Impala, Jimmy folded his arms and looked down at the ground.

"You were right," he said.

"I'm sorry we were," Dean told him.

"I'm telling you, I don't know anything," Jimmy protested.

"I believe you," Dean said. "But I don't think the demons do."

"And even if they did, you're a vessel," Sam added. "They're still gonna wanna know what makes you tick."

"Which means vivisection, if they're feeling generous." Dean said and Sam gave his brother a hard look.

"I'm gonna tell you once again, you're putting your family in danger. You have to come with us."

"How long? And don't give me that "cross that bridge when we get to it" crap," Jimmy said.

"Don't you get it? Forever. The demons will never stop. You can never be with your family. So you either get as far away from them as possible or you put a bullet in your head. And that's how you keep your family safe. But there's no getting out and there's no going home." Sam told him. Jimmy swayed on his feet and Dean grabbed his arm to steady him.

"It gets worse," Dean said. "Last time, Amelia got possessed."

"What!" Jimmy and Sam yelped.

"Sorry, I just remembered," Dean said helplessly.

"Dammit, Dean," Sam said, grabbing the back door of the Impala and wrenching it open. It was empty. Amelia and Claire were gone.

* * *

Balthazar looked around the coffee shop and then eyed the demon sitting opposite him with an amused expression. "Why am I here again?"

"You're after the Shadow Blade," Ruby said. "I know where it is."

Balthazar sat up, all senses on alert. "So what do you want?"

"Zila. Who is she?"

"Zila?" Balthazar said, looking puzzled. The name was not unfamiliar, but the language… Then he leapt to his feet, thunderstruck. "Are you telling me she's been released?"

"Tell me who she is," Ruby demanded. She sipped at her coffee. "And I'll tell you where the Blade is."

"No," Balthazar said coldly. "Tell me where the Blade is and maybe I'll let you live."

Ruby got to her feet, tipping her chair over. "I came here to make a deal. I get what I want, you get what you want. Not threats." Nobody in the coffee shop moved and she realized she'd made a mistake. This angel was much smarter than Uriel.

"Sit down," Balthazar said tightly. "You're in no position to make demands." Two more angels appeared behind him. "Now tell me what you know."

"Nothing," she insisted. "Not really. Crowley has the Blade. He was sticking it in a bunch of humans, mostly for kicks and giggles as far as I can tell. I don't think he knows anything about it."

"He stabbed people with it?" Balthazar said, pressing closer to her. Disgust rippled across his face.

"Yeah, and they all kinda went funny. Like zombies. And then they died. All except one, some woman he'd picked up somewhere. She… something escaped from inside the Blade and possessed her. She called herself Zila, according to Crowley."

"Do you have any idea what you've done?" Balthazar asked her.

She shook her head. "I've done nothing. Uriel gave the Blade to Lucifer. Lucifer gave the Blade to Crowley. I was not involved."

"Did you not arrange the meeting between Uriel and Crowley?" angel sidekick number one asked.

Balthazar glared at him and then turned his attention back to Ruby. "Well?"

"Yes," she said irritably. "But how was I to know what was going on? My job is to work for Lilith and help her bring about the return of our Master. That's it. Your internal politics are not my problem."

"What makes you think this is internal politics?" Balthazar asked curiously, his fox-like face sharpening.

"Well, I just assumed. Since it was all angels getting their panties in a bunch about it. I figure she's a rebel angel you stuffed inside that nasty little weapon. And now she's out, maybe she'll fight with us."

"You stupid little bitch," Balthazar snarled. "Zila's not an angel. She's a god. And she hates angels, especially archangels. Which means your boss will be on her hitlist too."

"So? Lucifer is the Lord of Hell! Some petty pagan god can't threaten him."

"Believe me, she can. She almost killed Raphael, centuries ago. My brothers had to seal her in a Blade made from the essence of one the few things that is more powerful than she is."

"This Darkness thing," Ruby said skeptically. "Sounds made up."

"It's not. It's real and so is Zila. You think you're winning. You've probably destroyed the universe, you and your blighted kin. Trust me, Lucifer is not going to be pleased."

* * *

"Why are we just sitting here?" Jimmy demanded, thumping on the back of the seat.

"Look, the demons took Amelia and Claire for a reason," Sam told him. "They don't want them, they want you. So, they'll be in touch and they won't hurt your wife or your daughter, I promise."

"You don't know that!" Jimmy snapped.

"No," Sam admitted. "But think about it logically. They want you to cooperate. As soon as they start hurting your family, the less you're likely to go along with it." His phone rang and he answered it. He spoke briefly and then held it out to Jimmy.

"It's your wife."

"Amelia?" Jimmy said into the phone. "Oh my God."

Sam and Dean watched as he spoke to the demon on the phone for a few minutes.

"They're at a warehouse about two miles from here," Jimmy relayed. "They want me to come alone."

"Of course they do," Dean said. "Don't worry. You follow their instructions. To the letter. We'll do the rest."

Jimmy walked carefully into the warehouse and stopped when he saw Amelia kneeling beside Claire, who was tied to a chair.

"Hi, honey," Amelia drawled. "You're home."

"Listen, I'm – I'm begging you here," Jimmy said urgently. "You do whatever you want with me, but my wife and daughter, they're just – they're not a part of this."

"Oh, they're a big part of this, Jimmy. And P.S. You should've come alone," said Amelia. She grinned at him.

"I am alone," Jimmy objected.

"Oh, you're such a liar," Amelia laughed. "Like I didn't think you'd bring Heckle and Jeckle, hmm?"

Jimmy looked on in dismay as Sam and Dean were marched into the room by three demons, bickering all the way.

"Nice plan, Dean."

"Yeah, well, nobody bats 1,000."

"Got the knife?" Amelia asked the woman holding Sam's arm. She held up Ruby's knife in triumph. "And you know what's funny?"

"You wearing a soccer mom?" Dean snarked.

"I was actually bummed to get this detail, picking up an empty vessel. Sort of like a milk run. Now look who landed in my lap?" Amelia spread her hands expressively.

"Yeah, well, you got us, okay?" Sam snarled. "Let these people go."

"Oh, Sam. It's easy to act chivalrous when your Wonder Girl powers aren't working, huh? Now for the punch line. Everybody dies." She pulled out a gun and shot Jimmy in the stomach. He fell to the ground with a cry. "Waste Little Orphan Annie," she told the demon on Dean's left and walked out of the room.

The demon in question walked around Jimmy and towards Claire. He grabbed a pipe as he went and swung it almost lazily towards her and was astonished when she suddenly grabbed the pipe in one hand and placed her other hand on his forehead. There was a blinding flash of light and screaming. Always alert to an opening, Dean twisted in the other demons grip and punched him in the face. Sam shoved the female demon hold his arm away and they fell to the floor, wrestling. Claire quickly burned through the ropes holding her and walked over to Jimmy. She looked down at him.

"Castiel," Jimmy said, horrified.

Sam managed the snatch Ruby's knife back from the female demon and he held her down, staring at her neck. He could see the pulse under her skin, could hear the thump of her heart beating. He swallowed, he did not want to do this here and now. But it had been so long, and his need beat at his willpower mercilessly. He could hear Dean and the other demon fighting behind him. Maybe if he was quick, Dean wouldn't see what he was up to. He sliced into the soft flesh of the woman beneath him and began to drink. Ecstasy flooded him and he barely heard the scream of a demon being exorcised behind him. But it was enough to make him lift his head and turn, to see Dean and Claire staring at him, appalled.

He snarled, turned back to the demon he had pinned to the ground and stabbed her through the heart with Ruby's knife. He stood and held his hand out to Amelia, feeling the flood of power as he exorcised her with merely a thought. He watched dispassionately as she slumped to the ground and Dean caught her.

Jimmy stared up at Claire, or rather Castiel in Claire's body.

"Of course we keep our promises. Of course you have our gratitude. You served us well," Castiel told him. "Your work is done. It's time to go home now. Your real home. You'll rest forever in the fields of the Lord. Rest now, Jimmy."

So he was dying. "No," he said. "Claire?"

"She's with me now. She's chosen," Castiel said in a hard voice, so unlike his daughter's. "It's in her blood, as it was in yours."

"Please, Castiel," Jimmy begged. "Me, just take me. Take me, please."

"I want to make sure you understand," Castiel said tightly. "You won't die or age. If this last year was painful for you, picture a hundred, a thousand more like it." The angel's eyes bored into Jimmy but he didn't flinch.

"It doesn't matter. You take me. Just take me."

"As you wish," Castiel said coldly. Sam and Dean watched as Claire touched Jimmy's face and a bright light emanated from her eyes and mouth. And then she dropped to her knees with a gasp.

Jimmy stood up. Except it wasn't Jimmy anymore. It was Cas. He walked past Amelia without looking at her and came to stand next to Dean. Amelia ran over to Claire and hugged her tightly. She looked up and met Cas's gaze for a moment. He nodded at her and then turned to go.

"Cas, hold up," Dean said. "What were you gonna tell me?"

"I learned my lesson while I was away, Dean," Cas said icily. "I serve heaven, I don't serve man, and I certainly don't serve you." He walked away and Dean bit the inside of his cheek to keep from crying out.

* * *

"I need to stop for gas," Dean said suddenly. The rain was beating down and Dean had the windshield wipers going at top speed. He was pale and Sam eyed him nervously.

"OK," Sam said. Was this where they were going to have their fight, at a gas station? But Dean just swung the car in front of the station and tossed the keys to Sam.

"I gotta hit the head," he said. "Fill her up."

As soon as he got to the restroom, Dean pulled his phone out of his pocket and called Bobby.

"Yeah," Bobby answered tiredly.

"Hey, Bobby," Dean said, his voice cracking under the strain.

"Dean? Is everything OK?"

"No, Bobby," Dean said brokenly. "Everything's not OK. Everything is rotten and twisted and fucked up."

"Dean, is this about Sam? What's going on?" Dean choked and Bobby barked at him, "Dean, I can't understand you. Look, where are you? I'll come get you."

"No! No, I need you to get the panic room set up," Dean managed. "Sam's gone darkside."

"Darkside?" Bobby replied in alarm. "What do you mean?" Dean let out a sob and then quickly filled Bobby in on what had happened with Cas, with Jimmy and with Sam.

"Even though I knew this was coming, I thought… I thought this time it would be different." Dean muttered.

"Look, we got this," Bobby told him. "Bring him here, we'll lock him down and he can dry out."

"OK," Dean said. "OK."

"Now clean yourself up and get back to the car. I'll call in an hour or so, and tell you to shag ass to my place. Sam won't suspect anything."

"Yeah," Dean agreed. "Good idea."


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, the formatting got all screwed up - fixed now. I'm gonna go back and fix what I see now is very inconsistent chapter numbering. :-)

Sam couldn't believe it. Dean had completely lost the plot, and somehow managed to convince Bobby to go along with it. He pounded on the door in frustration. This was insane. He pulled out his cellphone and tried to call Ruby, but the panic room clearly was either shielded or all the iron just made it impossible to get a signal.

He'd tried yelling, it hadn't worked. Even screaming, as he had when he'd hallucinated Alastair torturing him had made no difference. So what, they were just going to leave him in here to 'dry out' as Dean called it?

"Sammy," a sad voice said. He looked up. Oh, awesome, now he was hallucinating the Trickster in here.

"I'm real," the demigod said mildly.

"Yeah," Sam said sarcastically. "Of course you are."

"Believe me. Don't believe me. Doesn't matter as long as you listen." The Trickster hopped down from his perch on the table and sauntered over. He sat on the end of the bed and looked down at Sam.

"I know what you're going to say," Sam said bitterly. "Some crap about how you tried to warn me, that I was headed down a dangerous path. Blah, blah, blah."

"I do try not to be so predictable," the demigod told him. "Bad for my reputation."

"Whatever," Sam said, rolling over to face away from him.

"Sam, bad things are coming. Right now you and your brother are at ground zero," the Trickster said. "It's not your fault, but it is your responsibility."

"Why?" Sam ground out.

"Why not?" the Trickster said contemplatively. "It had to be somebody, apparently. I don't approve but I don't get a say."

Sam rolled back to look at him. His amber eyes shimmered with sorrow. "Why do you even care?" he asked.

"Lots of reasons," the Trickster replied. "I like this world the way it is, un-Apocalypsed. And I like you, in particular."

"Like me?" Sam howled in derision. "You tried to psychologically destroy me! And then you've been hanging around like a bad penny, constantly interfering in what I'm doing."

"I was trying to steer you away from this path," the Trickster said patiently. "If you let Lucifer out of the Cage, you can't know the unimaginable horror your life will become."

"You sound like Dean," Sam said sullenly.

"There's no need to be insulting," the Trickster said. "I care about what happens to you, Sam."

"Why?" Sam demanded. "You've said that before. It makes no sense."

"I don't know, really. I mean, at first you were just this cute, geeky, gawky kid with stupid hair. If you hadn't been who you were, I'd probably have never looked deeper. But I did. And what I saw…" the Trickster broke off, a little pink staining his cheeks. Sam swung his legs around and stood up, gaping at him.

"What do you mean, if I hadn't been who I am?"

The Trickster looked up at him. "Kiddo, whether you like or not, you have a destiny. You're marked with it, and everyone can see it. Every monster you fight, every angel and demon you meet, every demigod and demiurge and who knows what else. It's like a neon sign around your neck."

"Yeah," Sam said challengingly. "What does it say?"

"Lucifer," the demigod said. Sam staggered backwards.

"Dean said I would be the one to release Lucifer," Sam faltered. "But I'm trying to stop Lilith releasing him. That's why I'm doing all of this."

"And I told you you're going about it all wrong," the Trickster said. Sam growled at him and lunged forward, grabbing the diminutive demigod's lapels and shoving him backwards against the bed. The Trickster canted an eyebrow at him, but his pupils were wide and his breathing was rapid and shallow.

"Maybe I know what I'm doing," Sam snarled. "Why doesn't anyone believe me?"

"Because it's total crap," the Trickster snapped. "In what universe could drinking demon blood be considered a good thing?" The demigod was sweating bullets and Sam could feel a tremendous amount of heat radiating off his body. He swallowed, thinking about that was not a good idea. Neither was staring down at the Trickster's mouth, as he ran his tongue over soft, pink lips. Desire rose, unbidden, from some spot in his abdomen. He quivered as the sudden urge to kiss the creature he had pressed against the bedframe became stronger and stronger. The Trickster looked up at him, his pupils so wide now there was only a sliver of amber iris remaining. He swallowed and Sam followed the movement of his throat. He leaned forward and was disappointed when the Trickster leaned back. He thrust the demigod aside and stalked away.

"Not good enough for you now, am I?" he growled.

"No, Sam," the Trickster said. "It's not that. I swear. It's just, you're all hopped up on demon blood and I don't know-" he didn't get any further with that sentence as Sam had strode back across the room and shoved the Trickster up against the wall, crushing their mouths together with bruising force. Lust exploded within him, as his tongue tangled with the demigod's. The Trickster groaned, a low needful sound that tugged at Sam's gut. But the Trickster wasn't so easily conquered. He pushed Sam backwards with a burst of power. Sam wiped the back of one hand across his mouth and stared at the demigod, who was leaning against the wall looking utterly debauched.

"Ooops," the Trickster said, his eyes looking a little unfocused. "That wasn't supposed to happen."

Sam continued to stare at him. "What do you mean?"

"My control slipped a little, that's all. I told you, you're off limits."

"Oh," Sam said. He was still reeling from the incredible way the kiss had felt. The first time the Trickster had kissed him, he'd been too surprised to really concentrate on how it made him feel. This time, he'd been the one to initiate things and he'd never wanted anyone the way he wanted this small man in front of him right now. Well, not actually a man, but it didn't matter. The Trickster made a moan that shot straight to Sam's groin.

"Stop!" he said. "Sam, you're making this very hard."

"I thought that was the idea," Sam snarked and the Trickster's eyebrows disappeared up into his hairline.

"Well," he said, sounding flummoxed. "Well. Uh. This is not why I came here."

"Far as I can tell, you haven't come at all," Sam grinned. He didn't know why he felt so good all of a sudden, and flirting with the Trickster probably meant he was certifiable. But he didn't care.

"Are you channeling your brother now?" the demigod said, looking a little ragged. Like he was trying to stop himself from doing something.

"All right," Sam relented. "Why did you uh… come here?"

"I was hoping you'd let me help you," the Trickster said. "I can burn the demon blood out of your system, get you through the worst of it. The hallucinations and the like. And then, you'd just have to work on the addiction part."

"You can do that?" Sam said in surprise.

"Yeah," the Trickster said. "If you want me to."

Sam stared at him. "I don't know."

"Why not?"

Sam looked at him and gulped. "Because I don't know if you're real. And… if you are real, I don't know what you want in return."

The Trickster stared back. "Sex," he said bluntly. "I've been obsessed with you for far too long. I'm done with it. I clean you up, we go fuck each other's brains out for a while and I get you out of my system."

"Who says romance is dead?" Sam said dryly. "And what happened to me being off limits?"

A strange look passed over the Trickster's face. "I didn't promise you love. Just the most incredible sex of your life. You _are_ supposed to be off limits, so this is a one time offer."

"I'll pass," Sam told him.

"Really," the Trickster said in disbelief. "I can feel how much you want me, Sam."

"Yep," Sam said. "Not gonna deny it. But I don't know that this plan, the demon blood, killing Lilith, is really the wrong course of action. You say it is, Dean agrees with you. But Dean's not seeing this clearly. Cas has him all tied up in knots. And you, I don't trust you."

"I'm sorry you feel that way," the Trickster said.

"It's simple," Sam told him. "You said you cared about me. Asking me to whore myself out to you in return for some indefinable benefit is insulting. I'm a person not a toy."

"You have one night stands all the time," the Trickster said accusingly. "And you're screwing Ruby and you said it was just sex, just blowing off steam."

"Ruby's not a person," Sam said easily. "She's a demon. I couldn't hurt her feelings if I tried, because she doesn't have any. But that's not the point. The point is there's a difference between sex between two consenting adults and sex that is payment for something else."

The Trickster didn't say anything, he just gazed at Sam, an unfathomable look in his eyes. And then he clicked his fingers and vanished.

* * *

Dean stared unseeing at the sky. He'd been screaming for Cas for hours and there had been no answer. He knew why. He remembered why. He just didn't want to admit it. The sound of wingbeats caught his attention and he looked down.

"Well, it's about time. I've been screaming myself hoarse out here for about two and a half hours now," he said without turning around.

"What do you want?" Cas said.

"We need to talk," Dean told him.

"What is there to talk about?" Cas replied.

"Lots of things. Jimmy. Sam. Preventing the Apocalypse."

"I have my duties with-"

"Can it, Cas. I've already watched this movie, remember?"

"Then why did you call me here?" the angel said coldly.

"To change the script, dammit!" Dean snapped. "If Sam cranks up the Hell-blood regimen and kills Lilith, that's the final seal. The one that sets Lucifer free."

"Who told you that?" Cas said, sounding alarmed.

" _I lived it!"_ Dean screamed in his face. "Why doesn't anyone believe me?"

"Because it's not true," Cas said patiently. "If we kill Lilith, that's it. Lucifer cannot rise."

"You're wrong," Dean said, exhaustion beating at him. "Heaven wants this to happen. The head honchos, anyway. And they're telling you whatever they think you need to hear."

"You're suggesting that Heaven, and my brothers, would deliberately engineer the Apocalypse," Cas snarled back. "I am a good and loyal servant of Heaven, and I have been for millennia. Why would they do something so… terrible? It makes no sense."

"Cas, you gotta make a choice. You know me. You know I would do anything to save my brother. Even lie to you. But how would lying about this help me or Sam?"

Cas looked down at the ground. "Maybe there's another way," he said finally. "Let me make some inquiries."

"Thank God," Dean said with relief. "I knew you'd be on my side."

"If it gives you comfort to see it that way," Cas said distantly.

"God, you're a dick these days," Dean said heavily. He walked away and he heard the sound of wingbeats behind him.

* * *

"Castiel," Chuck said sounding nervous. There was something else there too, but Cas couldn't figure out what it was. He was so inexperienced with human emotions, he often got them confused. So he was sure that when he thought he heard amusement, it was really something else.

"Chuck Shurley," he said, nodding his head formally. "I need your help."

"Oh, sure, sure," Chuck said, clearing trash from the filthy sofa and dumping it on the floor. "W-What do you need?"

"Dean keeps telling me that killing Lilith is the final seal that will unleash Lucifer upon the earth," Cas said. A look flickered across Chuck's face that looked remarkably like irritation.

"Yeah, I know," he said finally. "I don't know what to tell you."

"Is it true?"

"I don't know!" Chuck said urgently. "I'm sorry, I really am, but I haven't written the final scenes yet. I don't know what's coming."

Cas observed him for a moment. "Then perhaps you can tell me if he is right when he says that Heaven, under Michael's leadership has been actively pursuing this course."

Chuck looked shifty. "I don't know. Not for sure. I only see events that happen on earth. But Uriel at least seemed to believe it."

Cas nodded, satisfied. Dean's suspicions made sense then, but he was wrong. It wasn't a widespread plot, just the machinations of a few angels who'd lost their way. He felt a small pang of regret for Uriel.

"Thank you," he said. "I think you've told me what I needed to know."

* * *

Sam blinked awake and tried to get off the bed. He stared down at the restraints in surprise.

"Nice," a voice said. He looked up to see Lilith sauntering towards him. "All trussed up like a chicken."

"No," Sam said desperately. "You can't be here. You're not real. This room is demon-proof." He closed his eyes tightly, hoping the hallucination would just go away.

"A lower-level demon, sure," Lilith said. "I'm a little bit more to reckon with."

"So what do you want?" Sam spat.

"Mmm," Lilith said, eyeing him up and down. "What _do_ I want? Well, I'd quite like a taste of this delicious body right here. But I suppose I'm going to have to go with not dying."

"What?"

"I told you, Sam. I don't survive this war, according to the prophecies. And I like living, a lot. So I'll do you a deal. I let you out of this… prison. And you go, do whatever you gotta do, but you leave me alone. I'll stop breaking seals. No more Apocalypse. You and your brother go back to hunting monsters. Everybody's happy."

"How do I know you'd stick to that deal?" Sam sniffed. "And how do you know I will?"

"Easy," Lilith said. "I am the final seal. Killing me is the final lock on Lucifer's Cage. I know you don't want to let Lucifer out. I know you hate me and want me dead, but I think you want to prevent the Apocalypse more."

Sam struggled against the restraints. "You're lying."

"Why would I lie, Sam? If I was willing to sacrifice my life to allow Lucifer to rise, why would I tell you? Wouldn't I want you to kill me, thinking you were stopping the Apocalypse instead of ushering it in?' She trailed a hand up one of Sam's arms.

"But if you weren't the final seal, I would have no reason not to kill you," Sam pointed out. "You said you don't want to die. So you're willing to say anything to convince me to leave you alone. You're a demon. Demons lie."

"Ruby's a demon too," Lilith said slyly.

"Who says I trust Ruby?" Sam responded.

"Who says you don't?" Lilith laughed. "She's strung you along this path for so long, you don't even see that she's doing it."

There was a click and Sam's restraints fell away. He stared up at her in surprise.

"I didn't promise you anything," he said.

Lilith looked as surprised as he was. "This wasn't me," she said thinly. There was a clanking sound and the door popped open. "This is someone else. Think, Sam. Who else has been manipulating you this whole time?"

"You're not real," Sam said. "You're just my subconscious trying to find a way out of what I have to do. Because I'm afraid. I'm afraid that when I kill you, I'll die. But I'm not afraid anymore." He opened the door and looked around, and then slipped silently out of the room.

* * *

Cas stared out at the water. What a mess this was. He hoped Anna wouldn't come. He prayed she would have the sense to stay away. The streetlights started to flicker and his heart sank. Not that he had a heart, of course.

"What did you do?" Anna said accusingly. It hurt. His whole vessel hurt.

"You shouldn't have come, Anna," he told her.

"Why would you let out Sam Winchester?" Anna begged.

"Those were my orders," he said simply.

"Orders? Cas, you saw him." Anna said in disbelief. "He's drinking demon blood. It's so much worse than we thought. Dean was trying to stop him. How could you do this to him?"

"To Sam? He did it to himself," Cas said coldly.

"To _Dean!_ " Anna yelled. "He loves you! Why would you betray him like this?"

"Love?" Cas said witheringly. "I am an angel of the Lord. I have no business dallying with humans and neither do you."

"Dalliance, is it?" Anna said. "You'll regret this Castiel. You're throwing away something amazing, for what? A Heaven that's trying to bring on the Apocalypse?"

"It's all part of God's plan."

"God's plan? I don't believe it," Anna said. "I don't believe this is what God wants."

"We don't know what God wants," Cas said savagely. "Nobody's seen Him for millennia."

"Maybe," Anna conceded. "But Castiel, you and Dean-"

Cas shoved her hard against the lamppost. "There is no me and Dean," he snarled. "I'm his guardian. That's all. It's my job to make sure he gets where he needs to be and he does what needs to be done."

"What a waste," Anna said sorrowfully. "Dean Winchester deserves better than you."

"You mean you," Cas sneered. "This is about jealousy, isn't it? How far you've fallen, Anna."

"Yes, I'm jealous," Anna admitted. "I could have fallen in love with Dean. I'd have treated him far better than you. But the heart wants what it wants." Cas turned away from her, despair beating at him.

"You really shouldn't have come," he said despondently. Two angels appeared, either side of Anna. A bright flare of light and they were gone. Cas turned back to the river, his mouth tugging downwards as Anna's words swirled around his head. This was the right course of action. He knew it. It was unfortunate that Dean Winchester had formed an inappropriate attachment to him, but it wasn't his fault. He felt Jimmy stirring inside his mind, and he squashed him down again. This was no time for doubt.

* * *

Dean leaned on the door of the panic room, aching with despair.

"Nothing's changed, Bobby," he said despondently. "We're still on the same road to Hell we've always been on."

"You don't know that," Bobby said. "You said yourself that some things were different."

"Some things," Dean agreed. "Nothing big enough. Cas said changing history was hard. I guess he was right."

"So what now," Bobby asked.

"I guess we go to Maryland," Dean said heavily. "That's where Ruby and Sam and Lilith are all heading. And I try to stop him."

* * *

Ruby wandered down the hall of the fancy hotel, taking in the expensive artworks on the walls. Sam had really gone to town, it seemed. She paused outside the suite and adjusted her clothing, tugging her shirt down to reveal as much cleavage as she could. Then she knocked. Sam threw the door open and glared at her.

"Honeymoon suite, really?" Ruby said, sauntering in. "I'm flattered."

"Did you bust me out of that room?" Sam demanded.

"How could I, Sam?" Ruby retorted. It was odd, really. But given everything she knew about the civil war in Heaven, she could probably make a good guess. "The whole thing's engineered to bite me in the ass."

"Then how did I get out of there?"

Ruby tried not to roll her eyes at him. She needed to play this out carefully. They were in the home stretch and she did not want to lose Sam now. "I don't know. I don't wanna know. You're out." She smiled at him. "That's all that matters. I'm glad you're here."

"Yeah?" Sam snapped. "Where the hell have you been?"

"I got here as quick as I could," she said defensively.

"I mean the past three weeks," Sam gritted out. "I've been calling you."

So he was running on empty and the addiction was tearing at him. With all the demons running around, she wondered why he hadn't tried to feed from one of those. Hypocrisy, no doubt. If he only fed from her, then maybe he could keep justifying it to himself as a sex thing, not an addiction to the blood. "I've been pretty deep in it trying to dig out Lilith. Sometimes I can't sit around and check my voicemail." Ruby watched Sam closely. She could feel his need pressing at her. She suppressed a smile. "I'm sorry you're hurting. Really. I had no idea that Dean would do that to you."

"You and me both," Sam said bitterly.

"You didn't book this joint just to impress me, did you?" Ruby said gently. Pain flashed in Sam's eyes. The wedge between the brothers was complete. It was a minor part of her mission, compared to the big job, killing Lilith and breaking the final seal. But if Sam and Dean were to play their parts, it would only be easier if the brothers were already at odds. Or so Lucifer had claimed.

"Dean's gonna come after me. And he knows my habits, my aliases, everything," Sam was saying. "He knows exactly which motel I'd pick."

"Hence the room," Ruby said admiringly.

"Whatever it takes to shake him," Sam said. Speaking of shaking, Sam was quivering all over. His gaze was riveted on the pulse beating in her neck.

"It won't be easy," Ruby warned. "I mean, he knows you better than anyone."

"Not as well as he thinks," Sam said. "And this time travel bullshit is just that, bullshit."

Ruby wondered vaguely what that meant. "You know, it's sad," she told him. "That things have gotten this bad between you two." She stroked his hair and Sam's control snapped. He slammed her down onto the bed, and she let out a laugh. Crawling up her body, his eyes almost glowing with need and lust, Sam drew the knife from her ankle-sheath across the smooth skin of her arm and then closed his mouth savagely over the wound. She gasped in pleasure and then smirked. Sam was hers.

Once Sam had sated his need for blood, and they'd sated their lust for each other, Ruby lay lazily in a sort of post-coital haze. "Your appetite's gotten much bigger."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sam said, prickling.

"Sam, relax. It's okay. It's good," Ruby soothed. "Just means you're getting stronger, that's all. It means you're strong enough to kill Lilith. Just in time, too, because the final seals are breaking."

"How many are left?"

Ruby shrugged. "Three...two…"

"What? Where are the angels?"

"Screwing the pooch, wherever they are." Ruby said derisively. "The point is, it's looking more and more like we're getting down to the final seal. Seal sixty-six. It can't be broken by just any demon. Apparently, only Lucifer's first can do it. In other words, Lilith."

"Lilith was Lucifer's first?" Sam asked.

"Yep," Ruby said. "Demon Sunday School story. God prefers humans to angels. Lucifer gets jealous and then he gets creative. And he twists and tempts a human soul into the very first demon as a 'screw you' to God. It's what got him locked up in the first place."

"So if Lilith is the only one who can break the final seal, if I get to her in time-"

"Then Lucifer never busts out of his cage. Exactly."

Sam looked hesitant. "You know, this sounds an awful lot like the story Dean told me. Except, in his version, Lilith _is_ the final seal."

"I've told you that's bullshit," Ruby said, fear spiking.

"I didn't tell you the best part. Dean reckons he's come here from the future. From 2016 if you can believe it," Sam said, shifting to look at her. "Says killing Lilith is the final seal that allows Lucifer to rise."

"That doesn't make any sense," Ruby retorted.

"That's what I said," Sam mused. "It's weird, though. I mean Dean will do anything, say anything to convince me he's right. But making up this totally unbelievable story about travelling back in time? I mean it's so laughably implausible, and it's not really like him. He lies, sure. All the time. He's a good liar."

"This time travel lie isn't very good," Ruby commented.

"That's what I mean. Normally, he'd come up with something a bit more believable. So it makes me wonder."

"You're not seriously considering that he's telling the truth?" Ruby said alarmed.

"No," Sam denied. "I think this is about Cas."

"The angel?" Ruby said. "What about him?"

"I think my brother is in love with him."

Ruby hooted with laughter, rolling around on the bed holding her stomach. Oh, this was the funniest thing she'd heard in a long time. "Good one, Sam," she chortled. "You had me going there. I mean, does he want to fuck him, sure, I'll buy that. But falling in love with an angel. Come on."

"I'm serious."

She sobered and looked at him. "For real? I don't understand how this figures into the time travel story."

"I think Cas is feeding him information and he's having to come up with an explanation for how he knows stuff. I think he's been meeting with Cas alone, without me." Sam said.

"Behind your back, you mean?" Ruby said. "Why would he feel the need to do that?"

"Because until recently, I didn't even know he went in for guys," Sam explained. "There's a lot of repression there."

"Oh, yeah," Ruby said sarcastically. "Dean Winchester, sexually repressed! Give me a break, Sam."

"Just trust me on this, OK. Maybe Cas is manipulating him. I don't know. Look, forget it. It's crap. We stick to the plan. You figure out where she is?"

"The bitch can hide," Ruby admitted. "But I finally have a lead on someone who might be able to help us. I closed in on a member of Lilith's entourage. You might call her a personal chef."

"Chef? Seriously? What does she eat?" Sam asked.

"You don't wanna know."


	17. Chapter 17

Bobby looked skeptically around the abandoned convent. It was dark and quiet, with just the insects and a light breeze to break the silence. He shivered in the cool air and rubbed his arms theatrically.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked in hushed tones.

Dean nodded emphatically. "Positive. Ilchester, Maryland. Look, here." He handed a photocopy of an old newspaper story to his surrogate father. Bobby accepted it and read it quickly, his mouth turning downwards.

"I'm not saying this wasn't demonic," Bobby said. He turned and gestured around the quiet landscape. "But there's nobody here."

"We're early," Dean said, shrugging. "That's all."

"Well, color me surprised," a woman's voice said. Dean inhaled sharply at the sight of a young blonde woman wearing a silky white nightgown. She held the body of a security guard in one hand, blood running down her forearm. "How did you know to come here?"

"Lucky guess," Dean snarked.

Lilith shook her head at him slowly. "No. No, I don't think so. You look… strange. Almost displaced. What have you been up to?"

Dean made to lunge at her and cursed when he found he was frozen in place. She laughed at him. Out of the corner of his eye, Dean could see Bobby was equally helpless.

"I could kill you," Lilith said easily. "I'd enjoy it." She sashayed up to Dean and stroked her fingers across his groin. He wanted to vomit. "Mmm. You are tasty." She stepped back. "But, I am not suicidal." Dean puzzled over that as she turned her attention to Bobby. "You on the other hand are entirely expendable," she told him. "I've got some time to kill, so let's play."

There was the sound of a snapping twig behind them and a tall, red-haired man stepped into view. Dean's eyes widened as he recognized the figure in front of him.

"Demons," he said distastefully. "They always make such a mess. What are you doing, Lilith?"

"I don't answer to the likes of you," Lilith spat. "Leave this place. Your kind are not welcome." She flicked out a hand and then snarled in impotent fury.

"And so polite," Lugh said, laughing. "You don't have any power over me, demon."

Lilith glared at him, but it was obvious Lugh was telling the truth. He wandered over to Bobby and placed a hand on his shoulder. Bobby instantly shifted and pointed a long silver knife at him.

"Peace," Lugh said. "I'm on your side."

"Why are you here, Lugh?" Dean asked, finding Lilith's hold over him was gone too.

"I was looking for Sam," Lugh said with a twinkle. "He and I have a score to settle. As you well know."

"He's not here," Dean said.

"But he will be," Lugh said. "All jacked up on demon blood and howling for her life." He gestured idly at Lilith. "And you came here to stop him, I assume?"

"Yes," Dean ground out. "Are you planning to interfere?"

"In a sense," Lugh replied. "You know what happens here tonight. You know what your father told you. Last time, you failed. You couldn't stop Sam and you didn't have the balls to kill him. This is your second chance."

"You're kidding," Dean said incredulously. "You think I would kill my own brother?"

"No, I think you know you should but you can't bring yourself to do it," Lugh told him. "So, I'm here to fix that. I'll kill Sam, and Lucifer doesn't rise. Lilith here goes back to… whatever it is she does." He looked down at her. "You do know only your death will free Lucifer from the Cage?"

There was a strange, soundless explosion and Dean fell to his knees.

"Well, this won't do at all," Zachariah said. "Must I do everything myself?" He snapped his fingers.

* * *

Dean was looking around the overly ornate room, his eyes darting from side to side. Cas saw the exact moment his shoulders slumped with resignation.

"Hello, Dean," he said from behind the hunter. There was an odd tremor in the his voice and he frowned at himself.

"Dammit, Cas, I was there. I was right there, ready to go and Zachariah zapped me here." Dean barked.

"I know," Cas said evenly. He hoped Dean would get a rein on his temper, because to say Zachariah was not pleased would be a gigantic understatement.

"Dean," Zachariah said expansively as he entered the room and Dean turned his head to look at him. "You're looking fit." He bared his teeth in what Cas assumed was meant to be a smile. Apparently his superior was even worse at facial expressions than he was.

Dean rolled his eyes in a way that a treacherous part of Cas wanted to smile at. "Get to the point, asshat. You've trapped me here so I can't stop Sam."

A flicker of irritation passed over Zachariah's face before he mastered himself. He walked purposefully over to the table, picked up a hamburger from the plate and offered it to Dean. "Try a burger. They're your favorite. From that seaside shack in Delaware. You were 11, I think."

"You're stalling," said Dean. "I know what you're up to."

Zachariah tossed the burger back onto the pile and sighed. "All the seals have fallen. Except one,"

"That's an impressive score. That's... that's right up there with the Washington Generals," Dean snarked with a weird half-grin, half-grimace that made him look almost feral.

"You think sarcasm's appropriate, do you? Considering... you started all this?" Zachariah snarled, gesturing wildly. It was amazing how easily Dean could get under people's skin, Cas marvelled. "But the final seal... it'll be different." Zachariah punctuated this point with a jab of his finger.

"Bullshit," Dean said succinctly.

With a visible effort of will, Zachariah managed to ignore him. "Lilith has to break it. She's the only one who can. Tonight - midnight."

"I know that," Dean said. "I was right there. You just zapped me out of there."

"We have a job to do," Zachariah told him acidly. "And so do you."

"No!" Dean yelled. "You want this, you want Sam to set Lucifer free. And you don't care who gets hurt!" He shoved the plate of burgers to the floor with a roar.

"I've had about enough of your insolence," Zachariah said thinly. "You are not in charge here. I give the orders. You obey. That's it." Dean turned back to look at Cas, but the angel couldn't hold his gaze. Something was off, about Dean's panic and Zachariah's insistence that they trap Dean in this room. Doubt prodded him and it sounded uncomfortably like Anna. Zachariah left and Cas followed.

* * *

Dean pulled out his phone and dialed Sam's number. He cursed when it went straight to voicemail.

"Hey, it's me. Uh…" Fear and distress clogged his throat and he had to clear it several times before trying again. "Sam, I wish you would listen to me. Please. Don't do this. I only got one brother, and I'm afraid. I'm afraid of losing you. Sammy, I'm sorry about locking you in the panic room, but Bobby and I were out of options. Please, Sam. Please." He broke off with a sob and then hung up.

The table in front of him had some ghastly china figurines of angels on it and Dean suddenly lashed out, sweeping them onto the floor with a roar.

"I see you don't approve of the decor," Cas said laconically. Dean hadn't noticed him return and he whirled around in shock.

"Cas. I need you to take me to see Sam," he begged.

"Why?" Cas said. "What more could you possibly have to say to him?"

"I have to try," Dean insisted. "Can't you see that? I've got to keep trying."

"I don't think that's wise." Cas said distantly. He seemed unable to hold the hunter's gaze.

"Well, I didn't ask you for your opinion," Dean snapped. "I'm trapped here, and Sam is going set Lucifer free and you're just gonna let it happen?"

"You're not trapped," Cas said mildly. "You can go wherever you want."

"Super," Dean said. "Take me to Ilchester. I want to go see Sam."

"Except there." Cas replied with a sigh.

"You know what? Screw this noise. I'm out of here," Dean said and headed for the door.

"Through what door?" Cas said coldly. Dean looked over his shoulder at him and then turned back to see the door was gone. Rage and disappointment burning within him, Dean turned back to the angel with a snarl. Cas was staring at him, and to Dean's astonishment his face crumpled with shame and he vanished without another word.

* * *

"Do we have to keep him locked up like this?" Cas pleaded with Zachariah. The senior angel eyed him with distaste. "Dean's a good man. Maybe we should listen to him."

"Listen to that howler monkey?" Zachariah snarled. "Look at him, smashing up the room like an animal." He waved a hand at the observation port hidden in one of the paintings, which showed Dean attacking a wall with a pedestal, yelling in incoherent fury.

"He's angry and frightened," Cas pointed out. "Humans don't care to be trapped and he's scared about what will happen to Sam. Of course he's scared, he loves his brother."

"That's not the only one he loves, so I hear," Zachariah said snidely.

Cas gaped at the senior angel in horror. "I don't know what you mean," he denied weakly.

"Come on, Castiel," Zachariah said. "Do you really think we didn't thoroughly debrief Anna when we captured her. Thanks to you, remember?"

Cas flinched at the memory of his betrayal. "I can't believe you think the crazed ideas of a renegade angel constitute some transgression on my part," he said icily. "If you did, I wouldn't be here, I'd be waiting for reprogramming in Naomi's chamber of horrors, just like Anna."

Zachariah grinned at him, the expression looking more than a little manic. Discomfort curled inside Cas. It wasn't his place to question his superior's sanity but Zachariah looked almost deranged.

"Actually, it was something in the nature of an experiment," he said. "We wanted to see how well your last reboot had taken." He held his hands up. "And you've behaved… adequately, if not perfectly. So, although you were certainly drifting off the path before we recalled you, you seem to have remembered yourself and your calling well enough."

Cas stared at Zachariah uncertainly. One false step here, and there would be nothing he could do to help Dean. If he decided to do that. Which, right now, he was still on the fence about. "We can't just leave Dean in there like this," he said finally. "He'll hurt himself."

Zachariah sighed. "I'll deal with it."

* * *

Cas watched as Zachariah aggressively berated Dean, getting in his face and smugly flaunting his power. It was not at all the approach he'd have used. Provoking the hunter like this was only going to make things worse.

"You know, I am so sick of you and your smug, fat face," Dean was saying and Cas battled to refrain from laughing. "I know you never wanted to stop this."

"I don't know how you know, but nope," Zachariah admitted cheerfully. "Never did. The end is nigh. The Apocalypse is coming, kiddo, to a theater near you." Cas's amusement faded. Dean had said more than once that a faction in Heaven actually wanted the Apocalypse but he'd dismissed it as paranoia.

"And the crap about saving seals was just to keep the grunts in line." Dean had the most peculiar expression on his face, like he wasn't so much asking questions as making sure Zachariah would reveal exactly what had been going on. Which Cas was certain was for his benefit, meaning Dean knew he was being watched.

"Pretty much," Zachariah agreed. "We couldn't just tell them the whole truth. We'd have a full-scale rebellion on our hands. I mean, think about it. Would we really let 65 seals get broken unless senior management wanted it that way?" Shock had rendered Cas utterly immobile. Zachariah was happy about this. He wanted it. Dean's pain and anger and frustration suddenly snapped into focus. No wonder the hunter had seemed so desperate. Self-loathing twisted in his gut and he grimaced. He was Dean's guardian and he'd failed him, utterly.

Zachariah was continuing to gloat and anger ignited inside Cas. He'd never liked Zachariah, and had always felt bad about it. He shouldn't dislike any of his brothers and sisters. And he'd let that misplaced sense of loyalty bring the world to the brink of disaster.

* * *

"Perhaps you will have better luck," Zachariah said and Cas glared at him, so appalled he barely knew what he was going to do.

"You arranged the whole thing?" he said quietly.

"What?" Zachariah said absently. "Oh, engineering the Apocalypse? Well, it wasn't just me, you understand. I'm good but no, this was a team effort."

"A team effort to destroy the world?" Cas said, his voice still low and a slight wobble betraying his pain and confusion.

Zachariah's brow furrowed. "Now, Castiel, I hope we're not backsliding here. I've had just about all I can stomach of your barely concealed flirtation with disobedience. Now go back in there, and calm that mud monkey down!"

* * *

Cas appeared behind Dean as the hunter tried again to call Sam on his cell. Trepidation made his senses spark and snap. Was he really going to go through with this?

"You can't reach him, Dean," Cas said. "You're outside your coverage zone." Hi internally winced, why was he trying to make jokes? He wasn't good at it and Dean was too mad to humor him.

"Why are you doing this to Sam?" he asked pugnaciously.

"I?" Cas said in surprise. "I'm not doing anything. He's going to do it to himself."

"That's crap and you know it," Dean snarled. Cas looked down at his feet and he could feel Dean's rage began to swell. "Got to toe the company line. Why are you here, Cas?"

The angel looked up sorrowfully. "We've been through much together, you and I. And I just wanted to say, I'm sorry it ended like this."

"Sorry?" Dean snapped, his temper slipping from his control. He punched Cas hard in the face, and Cas didn't flinch at that. But he had to bite his lip when Dean flexed his hand in pain. "It's Armageddon, Cas. You need a bigger word than sorry." Pain throbbed behind his eyes and it wasn't from the punch.

"Try to understand - this is long foretold. This is your…" Cas said hollowly.

"Don't you dare say destiny!" Dean roared. "Don't give me that holy crap. Destiny, God's plan... It's all a bunch of lies, you poor, stupid son of a bitch! It's just a way for your bosses to keep me and keep you in line! You know what's real? People, families - that's real. And you're gonna watch them all burn?"

"What is so worth saving? I see nothing but pain here," Cas said, moving closer and staring into his eyes. "I see inside you. I see your guilt, your anger, confusion. In paradise, all is forgiven. You'll be at peace. Even with Sam."

"You can take your peace... and shove it up your lily-white ass. 'Cause I'll take the pain and the guilt. I'll even take Sam as is. It's a lot better than being some Stepford bitch in paradise." Dean insisted. "This is simple, Cas! No more crap about being a good soldier. There is a right and there is a wrong here, and you know it." Stung, Cas began to turn away and Dean grabbed his shoulder. "Look at me!" Cas let himself be turned back to face Dean, feeling almost sick. "You know it! You were gonna help me once, weren't you? You were gonna warn me about all this, before they dragged you back to Bible camp. Help me - now. Please."

"What would you have me do?" the angel said helplessly.

"Get me to Sam. We can stop him before it's too late."

"I do that, we will all be hunted. We'll all be killed." Cas said in a shocked whisper.

"If there is anything worth dying for... this is it." Dean told him. Cas shook his head and looked down at the floor again. Dean didn't seem to know what he was asking. If he did this, he'd Fall.

"You spineless…" Dean turned and walked away, unable to contain himself. "...soulless son of a bitch. What do you care about dying? You're already dead. We're done."

"Dean -" Cas protested.

"We're done!" Dean said firmly. Cas fled.

* * *

"Well, at least he's not trashing the place anymore," Zachariah said when he returned. Dean had slumped into a chair, his entire body shaking with despair and pain.

"I can't believe this," Cas said, shaking his head as his throat ached. "I can't believe this is God's plan."

"God?" Zachariah laughed cynically. "God has left the building."

Cas felt cold inside. He thought that anger was always hot and burning but this was an icy blackness inside him, a rage so pure and and strangely still it almost overwhelmed him.

"If God has not ordained this," he said stiffly, his lips struggling to move. "Then who is in charge?"

Zachariah looked at him as if he'd lost his mind. "Michael, of course. Ably assisted by Raphael."

"Michael," Cas repeated. "Michael approves of us… jump-starting the Apocalypse. Helping it along."

"Castiel, do you seriously think we could do this without Michael's approval? Of course he wants this. He's been waiting to finish the job on Lucifer since the day he threw him into the Cage." Zachariah declared. If God had not told him not to kill Lucifer, perhaps we'd all have been better off. But, thems the breaks."

"You dare?" Cas said, his voice barely a whisper. "You dare to second guess our Father?"

"Certainly not," Zachariah said indignantly. "But he's not here. So we have to try and figure out what he would want. Michael believes this to be the only course of action."

"I see," Cas said. He had to stay calm. "So what happens now?"

"You keep an eye on this moron. I need to make sure everything in Ilchester goes smoothly. You are on very thin ice, Castiel. I suggest you think about where your loyalties lie." And with that parting shot he was gone.

Cas nodded to himself. In that at least he was in agreement with Zachariah. He did need to think about his loyalties. He just didn't think the senior angel would like the answer.

* * *

When Cas shoved Dean against the wall, one hand over his mouth to stop the hunter from crying out and attracting attention, it had been an entirely pragmatic move. He stared at the hunter and Dean gazed right back, his pupils enlarging until only a sliver of green remained. The feeling of the hunter pressed against him was making him feel all kinds of curious things. He ignored them as best he could but it was very distracting. Dean finally seemed to understand his intention and nodded slightly. He moved his hand and stepped back. He disregarded the way his body protested the loss of Dean's heat, but it was an effort. He had very little time before the alarm would be raised and he had to work quickly. He drew a knife and sliced into the skin of his arm, using the blood to paint an angel banishment sigil on the wall.

"Castiel! Would you mind explaining just what the hell you're doing?" Zachariah demanded behind him. He finished the drawing and slammed his hand into the center of the sigil, being careful not to get caught in the blast. There was a brilliant flash of white light and Zachariah was gone.

"He won't be gone long. We have to get to Sam. We have to stop him, Dean, from killing Lilith.

"I know," Dean said. "Haven't I been trying to tell you this?"

"Saying I told you so isn't very helpful right now," the angel said tightly. "I'm going to send you back to Ilchester, where Zachariah picked you up."

"OK, Dean said. "Where are you going?"

"To talk to the prophet," Cas said. "Maybe he can tell me how we stop this thing if you can't get to Sam."

"Cas, I don't think-"

"Don't think," the angel instructed. "Just go!" He touched his fingers to Dean's head.

* * *

"I've been waiting for this... for a very long time." Sam told Lilith, a twisted smile on his face.

"Then give me your best shot," she said arrogantly. He reached out a hand, throwing his power at her. She began to glow and cried out in pain.

"Sam!" Dean's voice came from the other side of the door and he lowered his hand and turned towards the sound. "Sam!" His brother was hammering on the door but everything was taking on a strange otherworldly quality. "Sam!" The sound of Lilith's heartbeat was drowning out all other sounds.

"Dean?" he said faintly. Ruby was screaming something at him, but he couldn't make out what she was saying. HIs head was spinning and throbbing unbearably. But when Lilith began to laugh, he heard that all right.

"You turned yourself into a freak. A monster. And now you're not gonna bite? I'm sorry, but that is honestly adorable." Fury tore through Sam and he turned back to her, raising his hand and hurling all of his power at her. Lilith convulsed and then lay still. Finally, the heartbeat began to slow and fade.

* * *

Dean could hear Ruby telling Sam everything she'd done to manipulate him to this point. Lilith was dead. He slid down onto the floor and lay there, letting the tears run down his cheeks. He'd failed, utterly. Worse than last time.

_That's where you're wrong_ , a voice like lightning said.

"Tenebrae!" Dean exclaimed. "Where the Hell have you been?"

_Escaping from the trap that has held me for so long. Thanks to you, and the little changes you made, I'm free._

"You son of a bitch," Dean snarled. "You never wanted to help me. You didn't even care if anything changed, as long as you got what you wanted. This was never about Metatron, was it? Do you even know Metatron?"

_Never met him_ , Tenebrae admitted. _But you hated him, blamed him for all the bad things that had happened over the last few years. Easier than admitting your own culpability._

"So what happens now?" Dean asked. "You got what you wanted, and I'm stuck here."

Tenebrae made a sound Dean thought was meant to be laughter. _Stuck in a nightmare of your own creation? It would be poetic, but I am not without mercy. You can return to 2016, if you want._

"Has anything changed?" Dean said despairingly.

_A few things_ , Tenebrae admitted. _Your angel is alive._

"Cas?" Dean sobbed. "Cas is alive?"

_Yes. He's not going to be very happy with you, but he is fine._

"So, if I go back now, what happens to Sam?"

_You know what happens next. Sam killed Lilith. And Lucifer will rise. You both make a last minute escape._

"But everything else is the same?"

_Yes, mostly._ Tenebrae said evasively.

"Dammit," Dean snapped. "What else has changed?"

_The Mets won the World Series._

"Are you serious? What the Hell has that got to do with anything?"

_You asked what had changed. That was the biggest change I can see._

"That's good," Dean said. "Thank God."

_You want to go back? To the moment you left?_

Dean thought about it. "Sure." His head felt heavy and his vision grayed out.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a Valentine's treat to my lovely readers, I give you the final chapter of this fic.

Dean blinked open crusty eyes and groaned, pain throbbing in his shoulders and hips.

"Dean?" Sam said. "Dean!"

"Sammy?" Dean said dizzily. "What happened?" He blinked once, twice at the blurry image of his brother.

"Amara's gone. Go check on Castiel." Sam snapped, his face stony.

Dean struggled to his feet and lurched over to where Cas was slumped against the wall. The angel was pale and Dean's heart contracted painfully.

"Cas?" he said tentatively. The angel opened one eye. "Oh Cas! Thank God!" Dean said and pulled the angel into a fierce hug. The feeling of being pressed against Cas's warm body filled him with hope. He'd done it! Despite the difficulties, he'd managed to change things for the better. He wanted to weep. Cas let himself be held for a moment and then patted Dean's arm.

"We need to check on my Father," he said.

"Oh. Yeah, of course," Dean said. He stood up and helped Cas regain his feet. They made their way over to where Sam was kneeling by Chuck.

"Well, that was a clusterfuck, wasn't it?" Sam was saying. "Was that really the best you could do?"

Dean stared at Sam, the anger and the mockery in his voice sending a chill down his spine. He clutched at Cas who looked at him in concern. "That's not Sam," Dean whispered.

"No," Cas agreed. "It's Lucifer. Sam said yes, remember? Are you feeling all right?"

"No," Dean said, the world spinning out of control. "No, he couldn't have."

"Dean," Cas said. "Did you hit your head?" He placed his fingers on Dean's temples and began examining Dean's skull.

Dean batted him away. "Quit it, Cas." The angel dropped his hands. "Look, things are a little fuzzy, OK. Just, remind me what happened." Cas gave him a strange look. "Cliff's Notes, Cas."

"I don't know Cliff," Cas rumbled. "I don't have his notes."

"Never mind," Dean said. "Just give me the highlights."

"Sam visited Hell and Lucifer convinced him to allow him to take him as a vessel in order to defeat Amara. He went off searching for a Hand of God and found one, back in the 1940's, but it didn't work. He sent Crowley to retrieve the Horn of Joshua, but that was no better. Amara captured Lucifer and has been torturing him. Metatron helped us save my brother and yours. My Father finally showed up a few days ago. They've been working on their differences but it's a work in progress. And then we gathered together demons, angels and witches to try and defeat Amara. But that didn't work either. She attacked my Father, and now he is dying." Cas sounded bitter.

"OK," Dean said. "OK. I think I got this figured out." He staggered over to Chuck and Lucifer.

"So, what's the deal," he asked. "God's dying. That's it? Game Over?"

"There's not much more I can do," Chuck whispered.

Lucifer shrugged. "I'm open to ideas."

Dean turned away. He couldn't bear to see Lucifer talking with his brother's mouth. Cas's hand fell on his shoulder and squeezed. Lucifer began tugging on Chuck's arm, pulling him into a standing position. Chuck leaned heavily against him, his breathing labored. A door slammed and startled, Dean whipped around, pulling out his gun and pointing it in the direction of the sounds. Rowena walked slowly into the room, followed by a depressed looking Crowley.

"Well... that was a complete and utter dog's breakfast, wasn't it?" the demon snarled.

"I didn't know dogs had breakfast," Cas said behind Dean, sounding confused. Dean's heart soared. By God, he'd missed his angel. He could feel warmth seeping through his jacket where Cas's hand rested on his shoulder.

"Just curious," Rowena said, almost offhand. "Has anyone bothered to look outside?" Lucifer rolled his eyes at her and Dean shook his head.

"What is it?" he asked. She waved him away and turned back to the exit. They dutifully trooped after her. Looking around, Dean couldn't see anything interesting until Rowena tapped him on the shoulder, turning him around and pointing to the sky. The sun was burning an unnaturally bright white, and the sky appeared to be on fire.

"That doesn't look good." Dean said, fear worming it's way through his gut.

"The sun is dying," Cas said solemnly.

"Why would Amara do that?" Dean asked despondently. Had everything he'd gone through been for nothing?

"The sun is the source of all life on earth. Without it, everything just… just wastes away." Despair throbbed in the angel's voice.

"Let's get the hell out of here." Dean said suddenly. Damn you, Tenebrae, we're just as fucked as before. There was no response. Of course. Chuck snapped his fingers and they were all transported to the War Room of the bunker. Dean staggered with the abruptness of the transition and Cas steadied him.

"You," Crowley said in surprise.

"Still got a few tricks up my sleeve," Chuck said with a weak smile, pulling away from Lucifer's support. "I'm not dead y…" He collapsed against the archangel again.

"Oh, whoa. Okay. I got you," Lucifer said.

"I should probably sit down," Chuck admitted.

"Yeah. Come on," Lucifer guided Chuck to a chair and Chuck groaned in pain.

"What do we do now?" Cas said under his breath. Dean looked at him for a second and then strode into the kitchen. He grabbed a beer from the fridge and twisted off the top, tossing it onto the counter. Cas and Lucifer walked in, looking at him with matching expressions of concern.

"Really?" Lucifer said, disgust evident in his voice. He sounded like Sam in that moment and it made Dean want to strangle him.

"Really," Dean sighed. Lucifer rolled his eyes. "What? We hit Amara with everything we got, and she walked it off."

"So it's last call?" Lucifer asked.

Dean chugged back a mouthful of beer. "That's right. Look, if you've got something for me to punch, shoot, or kill, let me know and I'll do it. I'll do it till I die. But how are we supposed to fix the friggin' sun?" He guzzled the rest of the bottle and slammed it down on the table. "You know what? This isn't gonna be enough. I better make a run."

"No reason to die sober, huh?" Lucifer said, sounding oddly subdued.

"You guys can get drunk right?" Dean said. "Cas did, once, I seem to remember."

Lucifer looked at Cas, his eyebrows raised. Then his eyes went distant and he laughed.

"Oh, that was funny!" Lucifer said. "Sam showed me the memory."

"I had to drink a whole liquor store to do it," Cas rumbled. "And it didn't last long."

"Well, I think I might have a slightly higher tolerance," Lucifer admitted. "So, I guess it's not an option."

"OK, Cas. Come on." Dean said. The angel exchanged a look with his brother and then followed Dean out to the garage.

"What are we going to do?" Sam asked, looking around the mockup of the bunker's kitchen inside his mind. Lucifer leaned on the counter, wearing Nick's face.

"Honestly," he asked. "I dunno. I mean, the Hand of God should have worked. And we threw everything at her but the kitchen sink. I'm sorry, Sam, I am. This should have worked. But Dad won't fight back. He's… lost, I guess."

"You promised you could defeat her," Sam said bitterly. "It was the only reason I said yes."

"Now, Sam," Lucifer said. "That wasn't the only reason, now was it."

Sam covered his face with his hands. "No, dammit." Lucifer slid his hands around Sam's waist and nuzzled at his neck. Sam groaned.

"Don't we have… more… important… things-" he stuttered.

"World's ending, we're out of options," Lucifer crooned. "Might as well make the most of our last few hours."

Sam shivered as Lucifer nibbled at his skin. "Oh, God," he said. "Don't stop."

"How you doing?" Dean said to Cas as he drove. "You good?"

"Yes," the angel rumbled. "Amara didn't hurt me too badly."

"You know, sometimes me and Sam have got so much going on that...we forget about everyone else," Dean said. "I hope you realize we need you too."

"Well, you do live exciting lives," Cas said dryly.

Dean laughed. "Yeah, that's one word for it. But you're always there, you know? You're the best friend we've ever had. You're our brother, Cas. I want you to know that." Dean said in a rush.

Cas looked at him curiously. "Thank you," he said. "But what made you say that?"

"I've just been thinking, that's all," Dean said lamely. "I don't think we let you know how much we appreciate you."

"Oh," Cas said.

"Especially me," Dean said, his cheeks flushing.

"Dean," Cas said, sounding concerned. "What's going on?"

Dean pulled the car over, turned off the engine and turned to look at the angel. "It's the end, Cas. The end of everything. We've only got a few hours left and I-" He looked down at his hands. Why was this so hard?

"Dean, are you giving me the last night on earth speech?" Cas asked, sounding alarmed.

"Maybe?" Dean said looking up hopefully. "Uh, kinda. I guess."

Cas sighed. "It's not that I'm not flattered, Dean. But we've had this conversation before. I can't do this."

Dean just stared at the angel, his stomach cramping. He'd laid his heart out, as best he could, and he was sure Cas felt something for him too. Turns out he was dead wrong. He turned back to the steering wheel and gripped it tightly, trying to squash all the emotions that were bubbling up inside him.

"I'm sorry, Dean," Cas said. "I'm still angel of the Lord, even after everything that's happened. It's not appropriate."

"Who cares about appropriate?" Dean screamed. "We'll all be dead and gone tomorrow. You've no idea Cas, how much I've been through just to try and fix this. Fucking Tenebrae threw me all the way back to the days before Lucifer's rising. I had to go through the whole thing with Sam and the demon blood and Ruby, all over again! And I thought I'd made just enough changes to fix things now. But it's all dying and I can't do anything about it." He stared at the angel for a moment. "I love you, Cas. And I think you love me too, even if you won't admit it. But, you want to pretend like following the rules makes a difference now? Go right ahead." He reached out to turn the ignition key and Cas's hand shot out to grab it. The angel's other hand grabbed his jacket and he yanked Dean across the seat towards him, bringing their mouths together in a clumsy tangle of lips and teeth.

Desire shot through Dean's veins like a shot of adrenaline. Cas's mouth was hot and desperate and the angel quickly rearranged their bodies so that he was stretched out on top of Dean, pressing him into the upholstery. One of the angel's hands slid up into his hair and tugged his head backwards, and then Cas switched his mouth to Dean's neck, biting down with a growl. Dean howled.

"You…" the angel snarled against his skin. "Damn you."

Dean struggled against the way the angel had pinned him to the seat. This was getting out of hand.

"Always pushing," Cas continued. "Pushing at the boundaries. Pushing me past my limits. Is this what you want?"

"Yes," Dean panted. "I told you. I love you."

"Love," Cas said. "Are you sure? Are you certain it's not just thwarted lust? That you only want me because you can't have me?"

"I swear," Dean said. "I went back in time to save you."

Cas reared back in shock. "To save me?"

"Yeah," Dean said. "In the version of the present I remember, it was you who said yes to Lucifer, not Sam."

Cas scrambled off Dean, somehow opening the car door and climbing out of the car backwards, his eyes fixed on the hunter.

"Cas! Hold up!"

The angel stared at him, horrified. "I remember," he said hollowly. "I can remember both timelines."

"Fuck," Dean said.

"You-" The angel's mouth worked silently for a moment. "Lucifer."

"Yeah," Dean said. "I'm sorry."

Cas turned away, a hand over his mouth. Dean watched his back as the angel's shoulders quivered.

"I'm sorry," he repeated. "I was very drunk."

"There's always an excuse," Cas said sourly. "The truth is Lucifer was able to spend months in the bunker with you and Sam, and you didn't notice it wasn't me. Don't tell me you love me. It's a lie."

"Cas, you're right, we should have noticed. I should have spotted it straight away. No excuses, I wasn't paying attention to you, and I fucked up. Badly. I don't know how to make it right."

"You can't," Cas said coldly and started walking away.

Dean stared after him and then climbed into the car. He started the engine and began following the angel as he trudged down the road.

"Cas! Come on, Cas," he pleaded. The angel ignored him. There was a sound of wingbeats and then he was gone. Dean stopped the car in astonishment. When had Cas gotten his wings back?

Sam lay back on his bed, warm and sated. Lucifer had retreated for a while, as he often did after sex. Sam didn't question it. The sound of wingbeats caught his attention and he opened his eyes.

"Gabriel?" he said in amazement. "What the Hell?"

The archangel stared at him for a moment, his face contorted with anger and distress.

"Sam?" he said. "Is that… is my brother in there with you?"

"Yes," Sam said sullenly. "What's it to you?"

"Sam, what's going on?" Gabriel sounded totally perplexed.

"Where have you been?" Sam snapped. "Amara's almost won. God's dying, and the sun is dying and everything will soon be gone. I thought you were dead. After you went off to fight her and never returned, I thought she killed you."

Gabriel gaped at him in naked astonishment. "I don't remember that," he said. "And I don't remember you giving Luci a free ride either." His nose wrinkled. "I see you've been keeping each other entertained."

"Fuck you," Sam said. "What do you want, anyway?"

"Castiel called me babbling about Lucifer and timelines and he was very, very upset. He and Dean have had a huge fight. I came to find out what was happening." Gabriel said. "Do you remember a conversation we had about somebody messing with time?"

"No," Sam told him. "I haven't seen you in months. The last time was just after you got back from Purgatory and we had an argument. You went off to confront Amara and the word was she'd killed you."

"Who's the president?" Gabriel asked.

Sam blinked at the rapid change in topic. "Why the Hell do you care?"

"It's important, I swear."

"Hillary Clinton. Until the election in November."

"Second term?" Gabriel asked. Sam nodded. "There's an African American senator, his name's Barack Obama. He's running for the Democrats this year. The Republicans are still deciding on their nominee, I think. I haven't been able to keep up with politics as much as I normally do."

"Obama's not president?" Gabriel pressed.

"No, I told you. He's running this year. Clinton beat him, eight years ago and she's been president ever since."

"This timeline is all messed up," Gabriel said, sounding stunned. "Sam we need to fix this."

Sam's eyes went distant. "Lucifer wants to talk to you," he said.

Gabriel sighed. "OK," he agreed. Sam's body stiffened and then Gabriel could see his brother, staring at him out of Sam's eyes.

"Gabriel," Lucifer said icily. "Why are you here?"

"Luci, somebody is seriously messing with the timeline. Can't you feel it?"

Lucifer gave him a lazy grin. "I can feel it. But I like this version of history. I'm out of the Cage and reunited with my beloved Sammy."

"Isn't the world about to end?" Gabriel shrieked.

Lucifer's mouth turned downwards. "Well, you can't have everything."

"Luci, I'm begging you. Help me fix this."

Lucifer pondered it for a moment. "I'll think about it. Who's doing it?"

"If it's not you?" Gabriel challenged. Lucifer shook his head. "Then I've no idea."

Dean drove to the liquor store in a daze, loaded up the car with all the booze he could afford and then drove slowly back to the bunker.

Dean. Tenebrae asked in a voice like snapping twigs.

"The fuck! Tenebrae, you son of a bitch! You lied to me. And the time travel thing hasn't worked anyway. The world is dying. God is dying. Nothing we did made things better."

Well, some things are better. Lucifer isn't inside Castiel anymore.

"He's inside Sam! That's not better!"

You're angry because you fought with Castiel.

"Yes," Dean agreed. "But I'm more angry that the world is still ending tomorrow."

Do you want to go back again? I'd be happy to take you.

Dean thought about it. "I'm not sure I trust you."

I'm sorry I didn't tell you exactly what I had planned. But would you have really gone along with it if I'd told you what was required?

"I don't know," Dean said. "But you should have given me the choice."

If take you back again, you get to choose when.

"Is there any chance I can stop Lucifer rising in the first place? Be honest."

No, there was never a chance of stopping that, other than killing Sam. You made it clear that was not an option.

"OK," Dean said. "What about how we stopped the Apocalypse? Can we improve on that?"

It's possible. If you can keep Gabriel alive, then you have a chance.

"Gabriel, huh?" Dean said, thinking hard. "He died at the Elysian Fields motel. It gave us a chance to get away. Except he ended up in Purgatory instead."

Not originally. He was dead. When I started making changes, the universe tossed him in Purgatory as a way of dealing with a paradox.

"A paradox?" Dean raked a hand through his hair. "This is making my head hurt. How could there be a paradox, before I went back in time."

It's hard to explain to creatures so firmly planted in time. But essentially, as soon as I started to put my plan in action, time adjusted. Right now, two possibilities are overlapping because you have a decision to make. I'll know as soon as you make it, even before you speak. Lucifer and Gabriel must be quite uncomfortable right now. Oh. Good choice.

"Wait," Dean objected. "How do you know-"

There was a flash of white light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... what did Dean decide? Will going back in time again make things better or worse? Follow me to Part Three: Shadows Reign. First chapter will post tonight.


End file.
